Pale Room Dancing
by ScribblerInNotes
Summary: Harper's life seems to be going down the drain at an alarming pace. Not fond of change, she's rendered speechless as things begin to shift when Carlisle Cullen replaces her old Doctor. Carlisle/OC M for safety VERY AU. DISCLAIMER: I don't own Twilight.
1. Chapter 0: Ends and Beginnings

AUTHORS NOTE

Hello and welcome to my little experiment. This fan fiction is a little quirky, so I apologize in advance to hardcore fans. But give it a shot, you might like it if you start reading it with an open mind… I'm open to suggestions, flames, compliments, etc. It might have a bit of a slow start, the first few chapters are mostly filler to give you an idea of what is going on with the main character, Harper Angela Connor. And yes, it is a Carlisle/OC story. It's a bit of a downer fiction. And it will be for at least 10 chapters…? Love, ScribblerInNotes

…..

"I'm slowly wearing out."

The words were slippery on the tongue but tough to force into reality. How long had I been planning on pretending like it wasn't happening? The chalk walls loomed over me from all angles as they had for several years. The stench became something that I was accustomed to, but it only seemed like yesterday that I was joking with my fiancé that every hospital smells like life, death, sex, and drama. It was obvious that I had watched way to many hospital based drama sitcoms. The trip particular trip that my fiancé and I had had made turned out to be a bitter one. We had been trying to conceive and after two years and three miscarriages, we were desperate to know some sort of truth. I hadn't seen a more sullen doctor than the man who walked into the room on the day of our visit. His lab coat was askew and his hair was slimy with grease. There were cuts on his face from shaving poorly, and stubble was peaking out of his weary, drooping face. His eyes were pale and to me they looked aged, but not in years. That man was aged in bad news.

He explained some things to us in a very detached voice, not making eye contact. I think that he was afraid of our bad news aging him more. I had a severely rare blood type. I understood that. But I didn't know what my rare blood type came with. I have AB RH negative blood. My fiancé had a positive blood type, and the fetuses that I had been trying so hard to nurture also must have had a positive blood type. An RH negative pregnant mother's body will try to reject her positive blooded baby in the womb. My body fought of my child as though it were a virus. And I was oblivious until that appointment.

The doctor then went on to explain more about my blood type since it was painfully obvious that I knew little to nothing about it. I stopped listening after he told me that I would never be able to receive blood from anyone. My body would not accept it.

"There isn't much that you can do for me," my mouth was dry and I wet my lips. Years after that appointment, I sat in a room not too unlike that room that I got the news in. I couldn't stand to look at my doctor, so I looked everywhere but at him. My eyes rested on the window.

Dr. McCorston flipped through my charts and instantly was denying my words.

"Harper, don't be such a downer. You know that scientists and doctors are working all over the world trying to find a false blood that your type will take to."

My doctor was a peculiar fellow. He seemed to be the complete opposite of the man who had bared such bad news. He's in his early fifties and a complete clown. He wore slacks that were a bit too short and his socks never matched. Even though he had the money, he never seemed to have a pair of shoes that were new they always had a hole in them and they were scoffed beyond shining. I've never seen him wear two ties that were the same, and he's been my doctor for four years. Perhaps that's where all of his money went; to buying new ties.

His nose was large. It mimicked a beak and on the bridge of his nose always sat a pair of large glasses that made his eyes look much larger than they truly are. His glasses were old and thick, he says that he's had them since he was in his late twenties. Once, instead of referring to his glasses as such, he called them bifocals. I could never let the man live it down.

Dr. McCorstons' hair was quite the site. It would stand on end and when he was in thought he would gather the graying and static-prone hair into his fists as if he was about to pull it into a pony tale. Once he had found his train of thought he would let his mane go and it would spring back into its original mess.

He had ape hands. There was no getting around it, even he could not deny how hairy his hands were. I convinced myself that he wears his big, bulky military watch to distract innocent bystanders from seeing his hands, but he had rejected that theory so many times that it had seemed to become our inside joke.

As far as patients and doctors go, I was sure that we were more friends than anything.

"I know that. And I also know that it could be years before they figure it out. You know that I won't last that long," I murmured, "My heart is failing me. I'm not going to receive a heart because my body will reject it." My words weren't sad any more. They were dull and full of poison.

Out of the whole worlds population, my blood type doesn't seem that rare. Most people can live a complete and happy life without trouble. That is, if they can get through it without some sort of cancer or sickness that needs treatment that involves blood transplants or organ replacement. I was just a part of the unlucky handful that was affected by my blood type.

I saw my doctor clear his throat and loosen his tie from the corner of my eye, "It's sort of stuffy in this room. Let me open the window."

Careful of my I.V, I reached up and grabbed my hair, tugging at it slightly before ruffling it. I shuddered a sigh and apologized. He nodded it off like the socially awkward guy that he was and sat on the table that was set near my bed, propping one of his legs on the chair and leaning on his knee.

We stared at each other for a bit and he broke the stare by putting down his clip board and shuffling in one of his coat pockets.

"Here," he whipped out a handful of Smarties, "I got you something."

I eyed the candy with caution, but took it gratefully with a small smile, "Alright, you have me buttered up, what's the news?"

Dr. McCorston always would bribe me with the small, round and bound candy. I wasn't supposed to have the sweets as much as I did, but I always found someone to smuggle some to me. Only rarely was it that I got my quick fix of sugar from my own doctor though.

"Oh, I just want you to meet someone, that's all-" There was a knock at the door, interrupting Dr. McCorston, "That must be him!"

Dr. McCorston hopped off the table with a spring in his step. He pushed up his bifocals and swung the door open, "My dear, this is Dr. Cullen."

I tilted my head.

He's misplaced, I decided instantly, He doesn't belong here.

Dr. Cullen was sort of, really, aesthetically pleasing to the eye. He was very poised and wore a kind smile as he nodded to my doctor in thanks and then approached me with his hand extended, "I'm Dr. Carlisle Cullen. You must be Harper."

His voice was very masculine and it melted from his tongue. Placing my treats down on the bed right beside me, I accepted his hand, only looking down when our hands made contact. His hand was lividly freezing. I frowned.

"Maybe I'm not the only person that should be on one of the hospital cots," I said, placing my free hand over his, "You are cold."

My voice held a very matter-of-fact tone, and I looked up at him with raised eye brows. Dr. Cullen's eyes were gold. I had seen light brown eyes that look like light caramel, but Dr. Cullen's eyes were made of sweet tree sap and his hair was a pleasant blond.

I tilted my head to the other side in thought as he chuckled politely. I let go of his hands and looked at him expectantly.

"This isn't anything out of the ordinary for me."

It wasn't the explanation that I was looking for but it would have to do.

I crossed my arms lightly and looked over the doctor. He seemed perfectly normal besides his striking looks. His shoes looked to be expensive Italian leather and his socks were not showing, his shirt was tucked in and all of the appropriate buttons were done. His lab coat held its perfect white color; not a stain in sight. His front breast pocket held a small assortment of pens. His tie was a solid blue, unlike my doctors crazy, flamboyantly designed ties.

He seemed like a lost model in a bad medical care ad.

He was a bit boring.

Tsking softly at my own silly thoughts, I turned to Dr. McCorston, "This has been lovely. But I'm dieing to know why you brought him here."

"Harper," my doctor started with a very unsure face, "There is no easy way to say this."

My stomach dropped to my knees, "Yes?"

"Dr. Cullen is going to be your doctor."

There was a really long pause where no one said anything and the only think I could hear or comprehend was the little girl outside my door that was being wheeled away as she chattered quickly. Her hair was pulled into pigtails and the woman wheeling her- who I suspected to be her mother- casually plucked away a shed, thick, long lock of hair as she responded lovingly to the girl. Once the hall outside my room was clear and I couldn't see anything through the blinds that kept my glass room somewhat private, I noticed the clock on the wall ticking slowly.

My toes curled and once what he said settled in, I tightened my jaw, "I see."

"I meant to tell you earlier but-"

"It's fine," I clenched my hands together, "Really, I'll be fine. You don't need to explain yourself to me."

My doctor… or rather, the man who used to be my doctor, sighed and smiled quirkily.

"Thank you Harper. Dr. Cullen and I have a lot to settle before I leave, but I won't be making it back to this room. So stay strong, alright you little Downer?" I don't know what I was expecting. Dr. McCorston had at least a floors worth of patients, why would he stop and say good bye? He has to introduce Dr. Cullen to all of them, and I don't even want to begin to think of the paperwork that had to be filled out.

I nodded stiffly, not looking at him directly. Candy seemed like a good idea so I unwrapped one of my candies, ignoring the somewhat erratic sounds that my heart was sending to the machines that I was hooked to.

Sighing, my former doctor hopped over and hesitantly patted my shoulder. He turned and him and the man who was going to be my doctor stepped out.

"It was a pleasure Miss. Connor," Carlisle called back. I only looked at him briefly and then nodded with a tight smile.

My former doctor only spared me one look. And then he left with only a small wave and a passive 'goodbye'.

Out walked the only stable component in my life.


	2. Chapter 1: Mrs Robinson

**VERY IMPORTANT AUTHOR NOTES! **This story takes place five years after Breaking Dawn.

That means that when Bella was giving birth (in 2005?), Harper was getting the news of why she couldn't have a kid. So the story takes place in (approximately) 2010. I'm guessing here, aha. Dr. Cullen arrives in late November, Harper just turned twenty four (Her birthday was the 26th of October in 1986.)

Everything happened the same as it did in the series EXCEPT for the following…

-**Esme existed, but chose to leave. **There will be details on that later.

-**Bella died. **I won't change my mind about that. Not to worry. If my story goes on for as long as I have it planned to, Edward will eventually come along a partner. More on that later.

-**Nessie lived. **This is because I don't have the heart to kill off a little girl. And I need a reason for Edward to stay around after his 'beloved' died. Think about it, we all know how much of a drama king Edward can be. He would get himself killed if Bella died and Nessie wasn't around. More on that later.

-**Jacob did not imprint on Nessie. **I can't bring myself to have Jacob be in love with the daughter of the woman who he wanted to have. The age thing doesn't really bother me. Just the whole 'Bella's daughter and Jacob Black love!' thing. But he also sticks around in order to stay loyal to Bella past her death. More on that later.

…..

Like a condescending force, he walked into the room with his chart, "Good morning Harper."

My lips sneered, but I did not reply. It had been about twelve hours since Dr. McCorston had last stepped through my doors, and in those twelve hours I hadn't gotten any sleep. I had stayed up, furiously tapping my fingers on my knee. I had gone through several swings in those twelve hours, and none of them too nice. First I sulked for a good three hours, sad and depressed.

_'How could he just walk out?_' I thought, '_Why wasn't I worth his time?_' But of course I knew that he had his own agenda and he had so many places to go. He was only halfway through his life and he had much to achieve. So much was possible for his unique mind. Being stuck inside a dingy old hospital like the one I was stuck in wouldn't get him far. He had a family to house and feed.

Whenever he was offered an opportunity to better his families living, I knew he would have to take it. Nonetheless, I had become so dependent on his scheduled company and his conversation. Next I became desperate for a new solution.

'_Well, how hard can that be?_' I had mused, _'I have the nurses, the kids, and of course Mrs. Robinson. Maybe even my new doctor. Can't rule out him this early in the game._' But I realized that I needed consistency. The nurses came and went, their shifts were constantly changed and they were spared to other hospitals like free condoms on a New York City street club. The kids usually got better or were moved to better hospitals. Mrs. Robinson, as much as it pained me to say it, was not getting any younger.

Next I got angry. I wanted to blame someone.

'_If Dr. Cullen here hadn't come along, then Dr. McCorston wouldn't have had a replacement. And he wouldn't have been able to leave me._' Who better to blame than the innocent?

"Perhaps it's good and swell for some of us," I barked out lowly.

"Ah, did you not sleep well? You've got bags under your eyes there, Harper," the doctor asked, seemingly not missing a beat. **My** doctor, what a disgusting thought. This man, the man who had taken away what I had held so dearly, was now 'my' doctor.

"Miss. Connor," I snapped.

Dr. Cullen looked up from his papers calmly, "Excuse me?"

"As far as you are concerned, my name is Miss. Connor," my voice was blunt. It was final. And I decided not to say anything to him for the rest of the day. It was a Wednesday and the official day one of my distaste for that doctor. My doctor.

…..

On day two I was expecting a bitter doctor who would be more than happy to practically shank me with my daily dose of whatever they would have in that days syringe. However, that was not the type of doctor who walked into the room. On top of being terribly annoyed that my favorite patient, Mrs. Robinson, had canceled her usual Wednesday visit on me, I became even more infuriated when my doctor entered my room with a pleasantly humble look on his face. I stayed unmoving in my bed as I followed him with my eyes.

"Isn't it a lovely afternoon, Miss. Connor?" he asked. When he didn't get an answer he continued to speak, "Surely you don't want to be cooped up in your room all day. How would a trip sound?"

"May I ask you something, doctor?" I asked sweetly, disregarding his question. My doctor didn't spare me a look as he continued with his check up that he had started as soon as he got to my bed. His cold hands moved over my skin as he took my blood pressure.

"Of course, what can I do for you?"

"I was…." I, annoyed that he wasn't yet looking at me, stopped and fixed him with a long stare. Finally he looked up and I scoffed. Then I started again, "I was just wondering if you like to hear yourself speak? You know, since I can't think of any other reason why you would continue to talk when I obviously ignore your consistent blabber."

What I said blew up in my face as he chuckled.

The goddamned lunatic chuckled at me.

When he left the room I tugged and my hair and groaned out angrily, _'I'm going to shake him off! If it's the last thing I do, I am going to scare off Dr. Cullen…_'

…..

Dr. Cullen seemed wise. It was just the type of vibe that he gave off. But if he was so wise, why didn't he give up on me? I was a lost cause at the time. Another thing that I had noticed was that after the first initial two days, my doctor had started to nail me with an extremely steady gaze whenever he tried to speak with me. Often I wouldn't look at him at all because of it.

"Your charts and my recent examinations show me that you have a low pulse rate and low blood pressure," I heard him shuffle through the room. It was a routine in my mind. He's walk into the room and he would mess with my IV. Next he would move about the room doing whatever he does, and finally he would sit down for a bit. Usually he ended up leaving not too long after he sat down. I suppose he had other rounds.

I held my silence. What a surprise there, eh?

"So, today we are going to test your eye site and hearing. Your file says that you've never had glasses, or even a proper eye exam with a certified eye doctor. And your last doctor left a note that he tested both. Last time they were both sharp, we'll see what the update is," he explained.

It seemed as though he knew a lot and my interest sparked slightly as I tilted my head up, "It seems as though you've been reading up on me quite a bit, doc. Excited to have a new play thing?"

Per usual, he was unaffected by my sneer. Unlike usual, I waved it off mentally. I was in too good of a mood. Well, sort of. I was excited because Mrs. Robinson was coming over later that Friday afternoon.

…..

Saturday I woke up in a foul mood after a vaguely disturbing dream that I had. Something to do with my ex-fiancé and my doctor meeting. After twenty minutes of being awake though, it was all a haze and I didn't remember it. On top of that, I was having what I call a 'bad day'. I felt sluggish and I couldn't really bring myself to move.

Every Saturday, a group of seven to twelve year olds came by so I could read to them. I had picked out a Brothers Grimm book, which they had enjoyed a few months back and upon request it was making a reappearance. Grudgingly, I tried my hardest to put myself in a good mood, rather than pierce the kids with a cold pair of brown eyes. The book was on my lap and I was sitting up properly but my stomach was sinking.

Accompanied by three nurses the group entered the room.

"Harper!"

"Miss. Connor!"

"HaHa!"

The kids had several nicknames for me, some of them more silly than others.

"Hapa?"

I hadn't realized that I was holding my head until one of the long term kids, Jeremy, who was nine, jumped up onto my bed and tugged on my sleeve.

Gasping, I caught him weakly. I tensed and then took a deep breath.

"Jeremy," I sternly said, "You can't just jump on me like that. I'm not feeling well today."

His eyes widened and he pouted, "I'm sorry Hapa." He used the name that he had given me when he first started out at the hospital. Even though he could pronounce his words better due to some verbal practice therapy, the name had stuck. I shook my head.

"It's fine," I stiffly urged out, "But I don't think I'll be reading today."

Disappointed, most kids whined and groaned, which only added to my agitated mood. I stayed quiet as they all evacuated and the nurses threw me some sympathetic looks.

"Don't look at me like that," I hissed, "I'm not some sob story. Off with you now."

It was so bad that day, that when Dr. Cullen walked into the room on his rounds I was only partially aware. As time went by I lost track of my thoughts and feelings and I submerged into a frightenly familiar and comfortable limbo.

"Miss. Harper?"

I giggled softly, tossing my arm over my head. Everything that happened in the room bounced off the sides of my head and echoed. Echoed…

"Echoed…" I murmured, "What a fascinating word. Rolls right off your tongue, doesn't it Dr. Cullen?" My voice faltered at several points in my statement, so I could stop and listening to my own words echo in my head. I gasped when my arm was moved from my face and it was replaced by a cold hand.

"My mum used to say that if you can't warm your own hands you should keep them to yourself," I said sheepishly. "And- hefnuf!"

I snickered at the sound I made as a thermometer was stuck into my mouth. I opened my eyes to say something but snapped my mouth shut when I saw how close my doctor was. He held up a finger and shushed me politely with a grin.

"I need to take your temperature right now, Harper," He said to me quietly. But not as if I was a child, just as if I were breakable, "We'll be able to talk in a while."

"Miss. Connor," I whispered in a sing song voice. Cocking his brow he fixed me with a look. I closed my mouth and waved my wrist around my head, hoping to show him my imaginary halo. He chuckled. I gave him a delusional closed-mouth smile and the rest is history, lost in my feverish subconscious because just then my neck lolled and my eyes rolled into the back of my head.

…..

I slept through Sunday. Oh no, heaven forbid. I wasn't torn up about it. At that point I could have slept my whole life away, it wouldn't have really mattered. Sometimes I would wonder, would it be a better path to sleep the rest of my life away rather than watch myself, and my light, slowly disappear?

…..

Monday, day six since Dr. McCorston had left by my count, I woke up while Dr. Cullen was already at work with my IV. I let out a grunt, turning over on my side, careful of my IV, putting my back to him.

"You are not the first person that I wanted to see this morning," I muttered, rubbing my eyes crankily.

"Oh, is this how you greet someone who nurtured you from a fever for two days straight?"

"Two days- what? It's Monday already?" I darted up, and regretted it as I tugged slightly on my IV. I shivered and then carefully moved my IV out of the way. I hated IV's, "And nurturing? Sir, I can assure you-!"

My face flushed when I noticed that he was teasing me. I turned my head from him and mumbled something incoherent. Cut me some slack though, it was early for me, I had just woken up.

"Assure me what, Miss. Connor?"

I huffed, "Forget it. You just caught me at a bad time."

"Ah, I've left you speechless then," he continued casually. I could have popped a vein I was so upset.

"Don't flatter yourself," I coldly said. And that was the last thing I said to him that day. I couldn't wait for him to leave so I could dip into my stash of Smarties.

…..

'Day seven…' I thought, 'I've made it a whole week.'

I thought it would be a good day. I woke up to find that my nurse was already doing her rounds. Which meant that Dr. Cullen had already done his rounds. I was free for the day. After doing a little happy dance I started to settle down with a book, reaching over my IV for whatever I had at the moment. I chose to save my Anne Rice books for another day and reached for a Michael Crichton book. That one in particular was Timeline.

As I settled back in my bed, I noticed a piece of paper hanging from my IV stand. Curious, I snatched it up and read through it. It had been addressed to me by my first name, but then it was crossed out with one strike and replaced with 'Miss. Connor'. I didn't recognize the gorgeous script.

'You were still asleep by the time that I arrived. I just thought that I would let you know that your eyesight and hearing results came back. Still sharp as ever, I can assure you. Signed, Dr. Carlisle Cullen'

I eyed the paper suspiciously, that couldn't of been it. That would have been to simple. I investigated the paper, flipping it over, and sure enough there was more.

'Post Script. I thought I might add that I am aware of your sugar collection. You'll really need to find a better hiding spot for it. I've decided to leave it there unless it becomes an issue.'

With flared nostrils, I scrunched up the note in my hands and tossed it into my lap.

"Would it kill him to just use 'PS'? So bleeding old fashioned," I seethed, "And annoying and aggravating! Albeit charming…"

I shook my head, grabbing up the note and tossing it over to the garbage can on the other side of the room. The paper hit off of the garbage can rim before plunking into it.

All I knew for a fact was that if that doctor even tried to mess with my Smarties, I would have a fit. But then again, what didn't send me into a fit at the time?

…..

More time passed and I continued to dwell on Dr. McCorston's departure. I hadn't been expecting him to leave. I was expecting to be gone, six feet under, before he even thought of leaving. Or I at least was hoping he would give me a heads up. Alas, he did not and it left me completely shattered.

And I wasn't feeling very forgiving.

I didn't mean to be cold to everyone who came around, it just sort of happened. I had shortly told the children that came around to my room every Saturday to leave, I ignored all of my nurses, and the glaring- I was chilling to everyone. And that doctor…

Oh, poor Dr. Cullen. Every time he stepped into the room I would curse him silently. Scoffing and sneering through my replies. I had asked him to kindly go back to wherever he had transferred, insisting that it would do the hospital environment good. Every time that he would leave the room I would rejoice, taking a swing of my juice and sneaking some Smarties from my secret stash. It felt gratifying. It kept me going.

It confused me. Never once did the man lose his temper or dropped his composed facial features. He was always static and unwrinkled. Perfect.

Unnaturally so. I had found it unnerving.

It wasn't until my most valued visitor was wheeled into the room one day that I was brought back into the reality of my snide behavior. There is no better wake up call, both bitter and sweet, than the one of a wise old woman.

My nose was stuck in an Anne Rice novel as I nibbled at the leftovers of my hospital slop. In her usual style, Mrs. Robinson leaned back in her wheelchair, singing a little tune as her nurse, Masha, strolled her in.

"Love and marriage, love and marriage…"

I looked up, and couldn't help my smile, "Go together like a horse and carriage…" I sung with her, a verse or two, as Masha settled her at a rolling table.

I didn't mind Masha. In fact, I didn't mind most people. It was just that at the time I was terribly bitter and, even more so, hurt. Masha was a gorgeous Russian woman in her mid thirties who had long dirty blonde hair and clear blue eyes. She was especially tiny in height and had to weigh less than one hundred and twenty pounds. I would never exaggerate about how small she was. Although she was sweet and did her job well, with her smashing communication skills and all, she lacked tact and was devastatingly sarcastic. Much like myself at the time.

"I'll come and get her in about thirty minutes, if that's alright Miss Connor," Masha asked. I frowned, setting my book onto my lap and pushing aside my food.

"Only a half hour?" I scrunched up my nose, "She's usually here for at least and hour."

"Well she'll only be here for a half hour this time," she snipped back off-handedly.

"Excuse me, sorry for being understandably disappointed," I spat back.

Masha looked at me carefully, obviously hurt with how I was acting. I was often pleasant to her. And everyone else for that matter.

Just as Masha was about to open her mouth to say something, Mrs. Robinson tsked at us, "Now, now girls. Please, no need for a quarrel."

I sniffed, but lowered my head none the less, murmuring an apology. There was nothing worse than being scolded by that woman. She was older, much older than me. She was about to celebrate her 90th birthday and she still was sitting up and kicking. Or at least she would be, if her legs hadn't been amputated. Masha gave me one more look of confusion before bidding us a good bye.

I returned to my plate of food, pushing over the asparagus that was still partially frozen, "So how are you today, Mrs. Robinson?"

She gazed to me, a stern look on her aging face, "Perhaps you should be sorry, but not for what you've apologized for."

'Still sharp as ever,' I thought wearily. The woman had been there since I had arrived at the hospital, but had not started visiting regularly until about two years ago. Even though I could depend on her visits, they were often postponed or even canceled because she has visitors very often. She also would have her treatments several times a week, including her therapist appointments.

I shook my head at her, "I don't follow."

She shook her dainty head, "What is this I hear about a recently acquired foul demeanor? It wouldn't happen to do with Dr. McCorston's departure, would it?"

I instantly shrunk back into my bed. I should have known that she would know all about my rotten mood. She was always in on the gossip. It was true- I had been taking out all of my anger out of the people around me. I brooded in my glass room, hissing at everyone who came to close. But even when I knew she was speaking the truth, I attempted to deny it.

Nodding slowly, I whispered, "I haven't done anything wrong."

"Oh sweetie, when I scold you the look on your face reminds me of the girl I remember from the day that you first arrived here. I am not trying to tell you what to do, but you've scared half of the hospital with your attitude."

I did not speak, and we sat in silence as she sat, content, with her pen and notepad that she had brought with her. As she scribbled down whatever was on her wise mind, she closed her eyes periodically in thought. I know that several minutes had passed before I finally came up with something to say.

"I don't want to be alone."

"Well, you will be if you keep acting like this."

The elder woman's words hurt, no matter how true they were. I cringed sucking in a shaking breath, "I know."

Her mouth spread in a smile that I can only describe as loving as she offhandedly waved her hand, "Don't worry. After all, I'm not. Worrying, that is. I know you'll be fine." She tucked her pad of paper into her side and stick the pen behind her ear.

I laughed, "Always the optimist Mrs. Robinson."

Her boney fingers danced around her table as she stared out of my windows in thought, "Did I ever tell you that I played piano for several years?" Her voice was crinkled in my mind, croaking and yet still sweet. An example of a perfect antique.

"Yes," I said softly, "You did tell me. You played for fifty years if I'm correct." I smoothed out the blanket that I had over my lap, working around my book.

"Fifty-two my dear. Close though," She laughed before longingly looking at her fingers, "What I wouldn't do, to just play a tune one last time."

I opened my mouth to reply but my glass door opened and in walked Dr. Cullen. I glanced up at him before snapping my mouth shut and jutting my chin to my chest. With Mrs. Robinson around, I suddenly was watching my every step with my new doctor.

"Good afternoon Miss. Connor," he greeted like he did every day. His uniformed self held his clipboard as he jotted down this and that before looking up at myself and Mrs. Robinson, "And who might this be?"

Just as I was going to introduce my friend, she put her words in first, "I'm Gloria. Gloria Robinson. And you must be the dashing Dr. Cullen that has all of the nurses swooning."

I grinned at my companion, "Blatant as usual Mrs. Robinson."

"Shush now Harper, the adults are talking," she muttered not looking at me. I could tell she was joking so I threw my head back and let out a laugh.

"Yes ma'am, I'll quiet myself now," I mockingly saluted her and she

shooed me further.

Dr. Cullen looked between us, a polite smile on his lips, before addressing Mrs. Robinson, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Gloria. You don't mind if I call you that, do you?"

Like a High School girl, Mrs. Robinson's face lit up and her cheeks flushed lightly, "Please, do call me Gloria!" the woman then looked to me, "What a charmer! Aren't you lucky Harper. I wish I could attended to by a young stud like this one."

"Really Mrs. Robinson, don't be-" I started in vain.

"I mean, really. I wake up every morning to Dr. Clarence prodding me with a needle, not a lick of consideration or respect for her elders that woman. And when you see as much as I have in my life Dr. Cullen, let me tell you something…" Mrs. Robinson leaned in as if she were sharing a secret. She leaned as far as she could, using her arms to support her on her table, "You find yourself knowing that it'll end soon and you have to be grateful. And that realization on it's own deserves respect!"

I watched my doctors expression unfold, as it skipped from curiosity into humor and then a polite understanding, as if he was humoring her.

"Oh, is that so Gloria?" he said in good humor, he seemed to think that her words were complete rubbish as he walked around my bed to my IV, a needle at the ready. I inwardly shuddered at the thought of how many times I have watched a man with a needle come into my room to give me my daily dose of whatever they had me on that week.

"Yes sir, and someday you'll understand," Gloria said finally, grandly leaving no room for question.

"I'm sure I will."

Just then my door opened yet again and in walked Masha. I looked at the clock on my wall and frowned, it indeed had been a half an hour. Masha avoided my eyes as she greeted the doctor with a blush and collected my companion. Mrs. Robinson's white haired head bobbed as she nodded to whatever her nurse was saying and then looked to my doctor and waved him towards her. He laughed lightheartedly and moved forward into her space. She whispered a secret, or something of the sort and then leaned back, looking quite satisfied with herself.

Dr. Cullen only seemed to agree, "I'll keep that in mind Gloria."

More curious than ever I quirked a brow at the two, folding my arms. '_What a lovely game,' _I thought to myself, '_Thanks for leaving me out of the loop._' It wasn't out of the ordinary though, it seemed like I was the last one to know anything about what was going on in the hospital. I had told Gloria that one time and she had laughed at me. She told me that it was my own fault because I never left my room. I had stopped leaving my room after the first three years at the hospital. Or rather, I stopped making authorized trips out of the room. Sometimes I would simply leave the room without a nurse or even permission. Those were my best adventures, the unsupervised ones. Mrs. Robinson then looked at me with her wide blue eyes.

"Hold onto this one Harper," Mrs. Robinson teased with a wink. She waved to the room as if she were facing an audience and bowed her head, "And know I must bid you two a good day, I believe Bingo is set up in one of the sun rooms, isn't that right Masha?"

Masha grunted, seemingly unable to form words with the stunning doctor around. I hid my face with my dulling red hair as I rolled my eyes. The man had completely uprooted the whole hospital. It was absolutely ridiculous.

"Tata for now deary! Hopefully I'll see you around Dr. Cullen?" Mrs. Robinson exclaimed dramatically.

"Perhaps, we'll have to see Gloria," my doctor replied.

"See you in a few days Mrs. Robinson," I called. I hesitated before adding, "Bye Masha."

I mentally patted myself on the back when Masha turned and passed me a small smile. I knew everything would be good between us. Especially since I was done with my bitter moods. I had to be, not only was I scaring off the people around me but I was hurting myself in the process.

Soon enough it was just my doctor and I. Surveying him as he tinkered with my IV, I decided to take a chance to take a second good look at him. From where I was sitting I could see that his hands looked unflawed. He wore an extremely nice silver watch and under his lab coat he was wearing an ironed beige button up shirt and a red stripped tie. His hair was swept back elegantly and I could tell that he hadn't gotten any sleep. Purplish circles hung under his eyes, just like they did a week ago when he started there. The way he stood let me know that he had a lot on his mind but his attention was on his patient. Although his eyes were turned to my IV, the rest of his body was faced toward me. His facial expression was passive and in thought. My eyes traveled down his well sculpted neck, around his broad shoulders, and from the length of his arms to his hands once more. I could see his left hand perfectly.

There was no ring. Which meant he wasn't married. Why not, surely someone as good looking and sweetly natured would be hitched by now? He couldn't be younger than me, from the way he worked he had a lot of experience in the medical field. Not to mention you needed about eight years of college to be a doctor. So that put him at about twenty six.

"I didn't know that anyone would be visiting my patient today."

I snapped out of my gaze and peeked up at him. He was looking down at me kindly, which didn't surprise me. Dr. Cullen has an uncanny habit of never looking like he was in a bad mood.

"Well, for future reference, children come to my room every Saturday so I can read to them. And then on Wednesdays and Fridays Mrs. Robinson drops by," I explained, "Speaking of Mrs. Robinson, seems like she's developed a crush on you. Along with about three quarters of the hospitals population."

"And what of the other quarter, Miss. Connor?" he asked.

"The other quarter account for different sexual preferences amongst all genders and of course," I swept my hands down my body, "Myself."

He laughed. My mind twitched with the thought of how nice his laugh was, whole and smoldering, similar to his eyes. I quickly dismissed the thought, "Please be as kind as to share. What's so funny?"

"It's nice to see that you're feeling better," he commented as my face flushed slightly while the corners of my lips tucked into a small frown. He continued, "It's also nice to know that you'll actually speak to me."

"Opposed to what, grunting like an animal?" I jested, "Believe it or not, I'm capable of being humane."

"Of course," he looked to my lap and a grin over took his face, "Interesting choice in author."

I grabbed my book from my lap and snapped it shut before tossing it into my bucket of personal belongings. I had oh-so skillfully labeled it "Bucket o' Belongins" with a silver sharpie. It contrasted well with the navy blue of the plastic bin.

"They were my favorite when I was younger," I shrugged, "It never hurts to read them again. It's not like I have anything better to do since the library here is lacking and I've read through all of the material there. Including the medical encyclopedia. That one was a bore."

"The whole medical encyclopedia? I don't know if I've even read all of them. You must be bored silly."

My stomach dropped slightly and I struggled to stay in a light mood. "Five years of these walls will do that to you," I mentioned blandly.

He paused, "I'm sorry. Your records says that you've been here since you were nineteen after three miscarriages and the beginning signs of heart failure."

I gave him a pointed look. I obviously knew that, hell, if I didn't they would have to put long term memory loss on my list of dysfunctions. I followed my doctor as he walked around the outskirts of the room to settle down in a chair. He crossed one leg over the other and folded his hands over his thigh. And then he promptly fixed a stare on me. One filled with wonder, as if I was unusual.

"Isn't seventeen a bit early to be thinking of children anyhow?" he asked softly.

He knew so much, it knocked me right off my high horse. I refused to make eye contact as I drew my nail to my mouth and started gnawing at it lightly. I debated whether or not I should share. I hadn't told anyone about this, other than my old doctor and Mrs. Robinson.

Just as I thought of her, the words that she had spoken early echoed in my head, '_You will be if you keep acting like this…_'

Out of the corner of my eye, I looked at him through my hair and sighed, "I was sure that I wanted to be with him for the rest of my life."

He nodded, as if he knew what I had gone through, "And what about school?"

I owlishly blinked at him and turned completely towards him. I lifted up from my half laying position, careful of my IV, and crossed my legs. Once he had my full attention and I knew that he was listening closely, I just let it loose.

"I never did well in school. I had the smarts, and I even knew most of the material. But I never had the drive to work because I wasn't challenged. Not to mention there was no inspiration. I also just wanted to do my art for my whole life…" I trailed off thinking into the past. When I didn't know anything, even through the miscarriages… I was happy. Ignorance truly was bliss, "I had been dating… him… since I was fourteen and he was sixteen. I mean, we weren't in love for the whole time, we fought through a lot of the three years together before we actually confessed our supposed love. Things were bad in both of our homes, and it created conflict in our relationship."

I paused, taking a breath, "Once we confirmed that neither of us were going anywhere though, we had each other. And that's all we needed. I was convinced that Anthony McClark was the love of my life. It's all I knew to be love at the time," I began to fidget with my thumbs, "He was in college when we decided to move in together. My father adored him and handed me off to Anthony without much thought, my father wasn't around much anyway. And my brother moved out a while before that."

"Did you guys have any sort of plan?" Dr. Cullen asked, more curious and eager to know then I had expected.

Sighing, I pushed back my hair, "No, we didn't have a solid plan. But that was just who we were. It's how we chose to live. He was going to school to be a lawyer, so school was expensive, but my father and his family both helped him out. And even with the help we lived in a small flat, living off of rice and peanut butter. On good weeks we would have green beans and blueberries. Ideally, I would blow glass to bring in money. I had been doing it since I was much younger, and I loved it. I wanted it to be my career."

He grimly smiled, "No school education needed there."

"Exactly," I said affirmatively, "Not much anyway. Just a few basics. So I dropped out right after I turned seventeen in my Junior year. It wasn't too much longer after that when I found out I was pregnant for the first time."

I traced my lips in thought, watching the clouds outside my window, "We had everything planned. You know, names and such. We had miles long lists before limiting the them until we had a name per sex. Anthony was enthusiastic and even though we didn't have life really good, we knew that we would make it. We had only just decided that we didn't want to know what the babies sex was that we lost her. She would have been Amrita Elize McClark."

I stopped, unable to speak for a while. My vision blurred for a moment.

"That's a very eloquent name. Strong, like her mother I'm sure," he mentioned. He was suave, I gave him that much. I laughed softly, wishing I could agree.

"I loved her. Anthony told me that it wasn't possible to love someone who I never knew. But I did, there wasn't a day that I didn't wake up in anticipation, waiting to see what hell the little gremlin would put me through that day. When I lost her I lost a bit of myself. The next one would have been a little boy, who would have been Tony Lance McClark. I lost him a lot earlier in the pregnancy. Anthony was more upset about losing a son, claiming that I wouldn't understand," I wiped furiously at the falling tears, not wanting to get too choked up, "What he didn't understand was that I was inadequate. It was my fault. But he told me otherwise and held my hand through it all."

I was thankful that my doctor was quiet.

"The final child, the one who seemed to make it through… we lost her extremely close to her due date. So close that I had to give birth to her. Layla Criot McClark was still born not too long after my nineteenth birthday. I didn't speak through much of the next two months. I lost them all so closely together but April, when Layla was to be born… That was it," At this time I just let the tears spill, my knuckles white from gripping the sheets beneath me, "It continued to go downhill from there."

As I said those last words, I couldn't go on. Instantly there was regret of letting it all spill from my lips so easily. I was just to ready to spill my guts to this man. The very one who I was sure would see me to my death.

_'You're such a pessimist,_' I could hear a voice in my head scold.

Neither of us said anything for a while.

"I'm sure you have rounds," I said softly.

He shook his head, "I don't have to be anywhere for a while if you want-"

I hiccupped, "No. Let me rephrase that. I would like to be alone for a while if you don't mind."

His eyes continued to soften in understanding, "Of course not. I'll see you tomorrow then." He got up unceremoniously and started to depart.

Just as he stepped out a thought popped into my head, "Doc?"

Turning his head to the side and then facing me completely he waited.

"I was wondering if it were possible to get a piano in the hospital, if only for a little while?"

…..

Review? (bats eyelashes)


	3. Chapter 2: Psychoanalysis

**AUTHORS NOTE: IMPORTANT!**

**Oh I feel so dimwitted. **I should have done more research before I wrote as if I was truly medical savvy. D; I knew it couldn't have been dead on, but I **really messed up my information in Harper's blood type **and what comes along with it. (huffs) Rather than shifting around my story… bare with me? It won't really be relevant eventually. So for any of you that know my information is wrong… I'm so sorry that I foolishly published something about what I know nothing of. And to the rest of you who didn't know, I'm sorry to mislead you. D;

…..

Tink. Tink. Tink.

I idly tinkered with the witch balls that hung from my hospital bed backboard. Skillfully crafted, colored, chilled, and hung, the glass balls were some of my past that I clung to. I used to have a total of eight but over the years a couple had broken, leaving me with only four. Each of them was a different color and each of them was sized differently. Each was made at a different time and each was equally dear to me.

It was going to be a quiet day. Nothing ever happened on Thursdays. I usually sat in my room, curled up with a book. Other times Mrs. Robinson would have her nurses send me her journals. She kept a journal like a mad woman. It was a wonder why she never went into writing novels. Her stories are gorgeously spun, and never dull. Even with the long lulls of her life, she had a way to spice things up. Once she sent them to me, I would keep them. I had them all stacked under my bed.

I wondered why she didn't give them to her kids or even her grandkids. For some reason she chose to lend them to me to reading and safekeeping. I hadn't gotten one since a few days before my old doctor left. So about ten days. She had probably filled a good chunk of another leather bound journal with her curtly looped writing.

Never sloped, her handwriting. Always tall, skinny, and tightly looped. I sighed deeply, flipping my threadbare blanket off of me. The building was quiet and a lot of patients were still sleeping. It was early in the morning in late November. Only a few more days until December. Thanksgiving had passed on one of the past seven days, I must have ignored it. Although I did vaguely remember the slimy turkey dinner that they tried to force down my throat.

The building was so cold but I found myself warm. I shifted in my hospital gown, feeling crowded. After shifting between the gown folds one too many times, I got frustrated and threw it over my head with a grunt. I reached over the side of my bed and searched until my hands found a small satchel. I brought it next to me and managed to find a beige tank top and red shorts that were stitched together with thick aqua thread. I fingered them and wearily sighed at the memory that they brought. I tossed the satchel back carelessly.

I had bought them at Block Island when my ex and I traveled to meet his family who lived there. My other clothing had either been already over worn or muddy with mineral soil from the bluffs. He and I had slipped away from his mother and her sisters, his father and younger siblings, to find a shop. Mud lined our legs and smeared across our smug faces. Our boots were long gone, the brown muck cakes the laces. We slipped them off before we dodged into the store, ignoring the shocked counter keeper. Before he could start unleashing his angry words, he and I had our clothes on the counter and cash wads wedged in our hands.

I shook my head and, on instinct, brought my hand out to tinker with my IV. However, I was shocked to find myself unsupported by my IV, my hand waving and pawing at the air without relief. Puzzled I looked at my bandaged wrist. I hadn't realized that my IV had been removed. It had been in for several months. It had been there the night before. No one had been in the room. I must have done it myself sometime during the night. I glanced up toward the small closet in my hospital room. The door was ajar, just wide enough that I could see my IV stand. It only made sense that I did it when I was half asleep the night before. I must have been both really tired and really uncomfortable.

"Miss Connor…"

I gasped and spun so quickly on my heel that my head spun. I gripped my shirt to my chest and stood in shock to see my doctor. His chipboard hung limply in his hand and he was only a half step into the room. He looked directly at me and I at him, our bodies stayed frozen. I noticed that his cell phone had been ringing, even before he opened the door. It rang four more times before it stopped, the caller giving up. It was then that I snapped out of my shock and turned a bright, angry red.

"Get OUT!" I roared. As quickly as I had spun, he was out the room, the door clicking softly behind him. I was thankful for my blinded window walls as I gripped my head in a panic. I had been in my underwear and bra. '_No big deal,_' I told myself, '_He's a doctor._' One that I was stuck with. One that didn't mean any harm.

One who was just as startled as me, if not more so… Or so I hoped for the sake of my own pride.

Quickly, I tossed on the clothes and pushed the door open for the doctor, a ripe scowl sitting on my lips. He edged into the room, his pristine lab coat right behind him. As always, the coat was spotless. He was looking at his cell phone in light thought. Or perhaps he was avoiding me and my glare. '_Hell, I would too if I were him._' I turned my back to him and tiredly made my way to my bed, propping myself up and into the covers. I was suddenly very cold and I nested into them, keeping my narrowed eyes on my toes that peaked under the blanket.

He cleared his throat, "Good morning Miss Connor."

"G'morning Cullen. You know, I took you for an oddly normal person who had a serious case of OCD," I drawled, "But I never took you for a pervert."

For once in the past several days that I had known him, he looked dismantled.

Well, having him walk on me partially nude was one way to knock him off his high horse, I knew that much then.

"I did not mean-" he began. I cut him off with a small and mocking laugh. He was my doctor, no matter how much I detested the thought. He would see it all- all of me- sooner or later, I was sure. Walking in on me changing? Well, I decided that it wasn't something that I should have gotten on him about. I was sure there would be other things. Other and better things to ride him about.

"Forget it. I was just giving you shit," I shrugged, throwing off the blanket again, fanning my neck lightly with my hands, "Who was the call from? "

He looked at me and I could see his composure returning and his always pale face smoothed out of what had been an uncomfortable embarrassment, "My daughter Alice."

My eyebrows shot up, "You have a daughter?" I couldn't help but be surprised. He was so young, "And she's old enough to dial a phone?"

He laughed pleasantly, "I actually have three daughters and three sons. All of them are old enough to dial a phone. Old enough to own their own phone in fact."

At this I furrowed my brow and shook my head, "You've got to be joking."

He humored me as he moved around my bed. I threw off the blanket again and wiped the sweat off of the back of my neck. I mumbled something about opening the windows and scrunched up my nose when he insisted on taking my temperature. He stuck the thermometer in my mouth and I paid close attention to him. His hair was looking neater than usual. It was odd, he was so clean cut to begin with.

I considered the time. He was abnormally early. My nurse hadn't even arrived. '_He must of just gotten to the hospital,_' I thought offhandedly.

"I'm not joking. I have six teenagers," he paused and watched my reaction of wide eyes and then apprehension. He then continued with a grin, "I adopted them all. The oldest are the twins, a boy and a girl. Jasper and Rosalie who are Seniors now that go by their original last name of Hale. Then there are Emmett and Alice who are Juniors and have decided to take my last name. And finally there are my youngest who are both Sophomores, Edward and Renesmee Cullen. The last two are siblings by blood as well. They all go to the high school downtown."

He took the thermometer from my lips and inspected it.

"How in the world do you handle six teenagers, who I am sure want to be out and about all the time, possibly getting themselves into trouble like we used to at their age? And on top of that, you have your time, attention, and energy sapping job," I fought off a shiver. I threw my blanket back onto my lap and curled my arms into it and hissed, "I hate heat waves almost as much as I hate the chills."

"You have a fever," the doctor said.

"Great, that's the second bad day in the past seven days," I slurred with a frown. I flopped back with closed eyes and flipped the blanket right off of the bed. I listened to him shuffle around the room. I listened to the drawers that opened and closed.

"You are very dramatic," he commented lightly as he appeared by my bed again. I peeked up at him and considered him for several moments before I settled with sticking my tongue out at him and taking the plastic cup and pills that he held out to me. He let out what I thought to be a scoff, but that wouldn't fit who he was.

Or who he wanted me to think he was.

My mind lit up and I looked up at him with a cocked brow. I shifted up dizzily and took the pills dry, not bothering with the water.

"Hm," I murmured mischievously. He motioned to my water as he jotted something down on the paper attached to his clip board. He brought his tree sap infested eyes up to mine when I ignored him. I repeated myself, "Hm."

"Oh?" he enquired. I sat cross legged.

"I may be the dramatic relief, but you seem to be the actor here."

He casually leaned up against the wall closest to the bed, "If you drink the water I'll listen to this theory that you seem to have."

I rolled my eyes but threw back the water into my mouth, swished and swallowed. I tipped the cup upside down to gain his approval. Before he could indicate it though, I tossed out the cup into the wastebasket- nearly missing- and delicately dabbed the corners of my mouth with my wrist.

"I think," I pondered my own thoughts momentarily before leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees, "That you aren't as calm and collected as you seem. I think that because you are pushed into the situation of authority, be it in your home with your kids or here at the hospital. The hospital where you took the place of Dr. McCorston, one of the best surgeons of the hospital. Of the state, in fact."

I stopped for a moment, tapping my fingers on the sheets in front of me.

"You're a very wordy woman."

I jetted my head up and scowled. I opened my mouth to snap at him but a good natured smile was graced on his face. I swallowed my words, took a breath, and wagged a finger at him. I was scolding him for once. I was done being the child.

"Now, now, Carlisle Cullen. Let's not interrupt. I wasn't done. Wait for your turn," I managed to say in good time before he burst into a short round of chuckles. I tucked my dull auburn hair behind my ears. My auburn hair that used to curl gorgeously. I used to straighten it everyday when I was younger. When I became a patient at the hospital at first I was unhinged by how my hair curled because I could no longer straighten it. But when my hair stopped curling on its own and became flat and lifeless. I missed the curls. The curls that I spent most of my life hiding with a straightening iron because the curls were so unruly.

I emerged from my thoughts and continued, "I sense that being calm and collected is in your nature, that much is obvious. But how much do you have to force your nature to have it cover your personality full time? I think that you only stretch your nature the way that you do because of your authority. Your authority puts you in a position where you need to keep those around you calm. To lead by setting the example seems to be your method. Or perhaps you are this way to keep yourself together."

"Where did you start, Carlisle Cullen?" I asked. I asked the question to myself more than I asked him. I tilted my head at him. I snapped my fingers and he looked at me expectantly. I provided my words, "You started somewhere similar to where you are now. But at the same time, not alike at all. Only similar in the way that you were in a position of power. However, I feel like your career counteracts your childhood, or early adulthood. Your father most likely was the head honcho. Let me take a wild gander… A police officer, or judge. I wouldn't go as far as to say that he was a mayor of some sort. The mayor wouldn't make room to harm anyone.

"And your job, your counteraction, was the other half to your fathers job. The job that he probably sucked you into. The job that you believed, at the time, to be alright. Correct. Just. Later though, you realized otherwise. You learned that you were in fact wronging more people than you were helping. That's why you save so many people. You think that you've hurt so many people that you now need to save just as many. Probably more.

"I feel like you recently went through a change. Someone recently left you. Whether it was one of your kids, or possibly a friend. Perhaps a lover? Let's not get into the grit of it. You are trying to do what will keep you together, or what you think will keep you together since it was how you lived before this change. But the change has moved you, hasn't it? It's changed you. You aren't ready to move with it though. You still have attachments. Your attachments are what you seem to think as responsibilities.

"But that won't stop you. You have made to many achievements in your life. I can see it in the way you walk and talk. The way that you regard people like myself, the nurses, and even Mrs. Robinson. You've seen a lot. You're far to old for your body. An old soul…" I looked for better words, my rambling didn't seem to make sense, "You'll grow into the change I think."

I scratched my chin.

There were people walking outside of my room.

My nurse had yet to arrive this morning.

My window had been closed sometime during the night before. I had opened it before I went to bed. I hadn't gone to bed until I knew that the nurses and doctors rounds were done for the eve. No one came to my room in the morning. Not a nurse anyway, by the time nurses made rounds I was sleeping lightly. I would have woken up if someone had been in my room, someone like Masha. I furrowed my brow but ignored it. I looked back at the doctor who stood quietly and watched my every move. My eyes darted to the window again before I kept speaking.

"But let me go back to the original point. You are a master actor. I wonder how many of your kids realize. I wonder how many of your coworkers know. I wonder if you have even admitted it to yourself yet. How long are you going to let yourself think that you are acting to keep the people around you together?"

I knew I had gone to far. It's what I usually would do. When I met someone new that was my superior, I would push them to their limits. I tested their patience. I tested my own. It was actually a horrible quirk. It was self destructive, it left me with very few people who cared to know me. I blamed my father, who insisted that I become a psychologist for the good pay. He said I had the natural talent, I just needed to quit my 'silly art' and pursue a real career.

It was also a horrible gift I had, to so deeply psychoanalyze those around me.

"Perhaps you should just realized that you are trying to keep yourself together. But maybe you should also realize that they don't need you to weaken yourself the way you do to protect them. Behaving to benefit everyone else disables parts of you, parts that need attention. You need to feed yourself sometimes too. Maybe you need to realized that by giving them time to grow themselves and by letting yourself relax, you can strengthen everyone around you. And maybe, just maybe, you can let yourself be free…" I trailed off.

We were both silent. That day he was wearing dark purple socks and a yellow tie. '_How nice,_' I thought, '_He_ _is wearing complimentary colors._' His shirt was buttoned to the very top and I let a smile slide onto my face.

"If I could be any sort of fastening device, I would be a silver boot fastening. Mostly because boots are taken on the most amazing adventures and usually taken the best care of because to go anywhere barefoot is not only a crime sometimes, but it's also usually very comfortable."

He was still for several passing moments at the sudden change of topic and tone, "What an odd thing to say."

I nodded, "Typically, things like that stay in my head. I just felt like sharing." I hoped he knew that I was not just talking about my fastening device chatter.

We lapsed into another absence of conversation.

"If I could be any sort of 'fastening device', I would be a zipper."

The doctors face was serious and I decided not to ask him why. I had picked enough at his mind and his past that day. Instead I smiled and accepted his words.

Suddenly he kicked off the wall that he had been leaning on and collected himself, "I've got to start my rounds and your nurse will be in soon."

My head bobbed again and it seemed like it had become my signature move. Just sway your head up and down. Agree. My other reactions were hunging in a closet, shut away. I felt numb. I felt new. I felt like I needed to find myself again.

"See you around Doc," I muttered as he left.

My room felt empty. There was so much feeling. It attacked me from all sides.

I was feeling reflective, over all. Far too reflective. The doctor was changing me, just as much as I was planning on changing him. That doctor, my doctor.

My doctor.

Gruffly as ever, I racked my hands through my hair. I needed to get out. I needed a smoke.

My nurse came and went twice in the next five hours and then the doctor- my doctor- didn't show up for his second round. I put on a pair or old sun beaten red leggings and a large white shirt that reached my mid-thigh.

As I readied to slip from my room, something clicked in my mind.

My doctor hadn't asked about my IV.

…..

While in the supply closet that was at the end of my corridor I grabbed several useful things. First I made an effort to find a pair of clean scrubs that would fit. I managed to find a light green pair that were just snug enough that I wouldn't look suspicious. I would also be comfortable.

Next I found an empty clipboard. I clipped some old cleaning records that I had snatched from the visitor bathroom and several other blank papers onto it and deemed it convincing. To me I looked like a nurse. Especially with the addition of the scrub cap. I had found a tie and pulled my hair up. And then I capped it. Only my roots and wisps of my hair could be seen. Next I scrounged around for matches or a lighter. Sadly I found neither, which didn't disappoint me too much. The janitors sometimes kept them with the supplies, but it was against hospital policy to leave them around.

I was feeling a bit giddy and terribly adventurous. I had never gone outside for a smoke. Usually I stole cigarettes from the unexpecting and would save them until I could hang myself out of a window somewhere, usually in my room. And when I went on my adventures, I was never as ballsy as I was right then. I usually stayed undetected, and if someone noticed I was gone, I would know. Gossip spread like wildfire in the hospital. It would be easy to sneak back toward the room and hide out until the room was vacant from searchers. Then I would slip in and play innocent, insisting that I had only gone to the bathroom down the hall for one reason or another. Or I had actually traveled to the sun room. Or I had gone to return a book that a nurse had brought me.

Though people got suspicious, they didn't do anything. Not only did my doctor at the time defend me, but when they found me in my room pulling off the puppy dog eyes, my IV was reattached and everything seemed in order. Everything was unharmed and no one had seen me.

This time was different. I was going to test my ability to blend in.

I put on my best game face and held my chin high. And then I strolled out of the closet. I passed several people. I passed nurses who didn't look at my face but still chose to wave or ask how my patients were doing. I would grin and respond positively. I was thankful for the medicine that my doctor had told the nurses to put me on. The chills and heat waves had stopped and my head felt like it was screwed on the right way. I had no fever to speak of and walking was simple enough.

I hadn't been expecting anything to be as easy as it was. Only when the front desk receptionist called me back did I go stiff.

"Miss!"

I halted and sleekly made my way over to her and her desk.

"Yes…" my orbs bolted to her desk plate, "Yes Wendy? Is there anything I can do for you?"

She was graying around the ears and she looked vaguely familiar. I convinced myself that it wasn't the same receptionist that was employed and working the front desk when I first arrived years ago. It could have been though. I hadn't been this close to the exit in years. This also gave me comfort, because she was looking directly at me. I watched her carefully and was relieved when the words out of her mouth were not accusing.

"Oh, it's nothing. Nurses just usually leave clipboards here," the woman patted a pile of boards next to her. I sucked on the inside of my cheek before pulling up my smile again. The receptionist, Wendy, had no idea.

"Of course Wendy. I'm a little new here, sorry about that."

"Oh no, it's perfectly fine. I thought you didn't look familiar," Wendy said simply, "Anything else I can help you with dear?"

I shuffled my clipboard into the pile, under one or two and regarded Wendy.

"No I think that's it," I chirped, "See you in a bit."

Wendy hummed and went to her computer and started clacking away. I breathed a laugh. Things were so simple around there. It was another one of my reasons that my doctor didn't belong in the hospital. Simple, readable, only skin deep; all of the qualities of the hospital that my doctor did not share. I wondered how that piano was coming along, or if he had thought of it at all since I had asked. I dismissed the doctor from my mind and focused on finding my smoke. I stepped closer to the exit before I stopped. Again.

"Actually, Wendy…" I decided, "You wouldn't happen to have a cigarette on you, would you?"

…..

A very special thanks to …

**OpiumCakes** who has reviewed twice and put me on their favorite story listing. (: It's kept me moving, albeit slowly. And I DO plan on finishing it, hopefully in the next year and a half at most. Pester me for updates and they will come! **cleo nightingale **who corrected me with the lovely review. Even though I feel ridiculous, I couldn't be more thankful. :D I'm going to keep writing even though the beginning and the cause of the characters placement is all screwy, just as you advised. **PhysicsMaster17** who took the extra few minutes to send me a message! It made me grin and dance around with glee, aha. Someone who shares my views! Finally! **IrishGem88** who put me on their author alert. **Renrinrin** and **Aerea Valentine **who put me on their favorite story listing.

…And to all of you that put me on your story alert.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter~ Love, _SribblerInNotes_


	4. Chapter 3: Making Rules

My success continued as good ol' Wendy, who was more than happy to help, handed over a stick. Outside I lured in a male nurse who, judging by his timely patience as he tried to wiggle information out of me about me and what ward I worked in, must have worked with the elderly. I wondered offhandedly if he worked at all with Mrs. Robinson at the time. After chitchatting with him for several minutes, I had taken out the cigarette and tucked it between my lips. His eyes followed me. As I began to search my pockets for a nonexistent lighter.

After witnessing my troubled search, he offered to light it for me. I thankfully took him up on the offer, and we shared our— his— break time smoking. I learned that his name was Roger. I was sure that if I was careful enough, I wouldn't encounter Roger again. I was more confident in this fact because he expressed to me his wishes to move to Florida to work at one of the hospitals there. He, like many of the nurses, wouldn't be around long. Especially since he aspired to work elsewhere.

Being a perfect gentleman, he didn't ask me for my name. Not until I put out the butt of my smoke in the pavement beneath me. We had been crouched on the side of the hospital for at least fifteen minutes.

"I didn't catch your name," Roger said as we walked in together. We made it to Wendy's desk and I almost didn't hear him. I was glancing around the room, more than thankful to see that none of my nurses or my doctor were in the foyer. I blinked and looked up at him. He was older, perhaps thirty, and he had hazel eyes. HE had hazel eyes.

I felt bad, I had used him for a light up.

I didn't feel bad for long though. It had been so worth it.

"Wouldn't you like to know," I laughed, throwing him off. I slipped my clipboard out from the others and sauntered off. I didn't bother to looked back to see if he was following or if he was watching. It didn't matter to me as long as I got back to my room uncaught. Once out of sight of the foyer, I edged around the hallways, greeting other nurses courteously once more. As I neared the closet that I had changed in, I saw a familiar face. Masha's blonde hair and small stature stood out among the other nurses and patients. She was linked at the elbow to a patient that was linked to an IV. The patient was inching his way toward a room, the room that must have been his.

I was only a few paces away from the closet and my hand twitched in anticipation. I wasn't sure if I should have dodged into the closet when she wasn't looking or not. I was sure that if I did, than she would have looked up just in time to see me disappear and I would be caught. Masha was coaxing him into conversation when she glanced down the hall. He eyes met my face and she looked back to the patient, continuing to speak.

I almost let out the breath that I hadn't realized that I was holding. But then she did a double take. I stopped walking and stood limply. She opened her mouth to say something but then it seemed as though her patient demanded her attention because she immediately looked to him.

I took advantage of her distraction and, as calmly as I could so I would not alarm the other by standers in the hall, entered the closet and shut it snuggly behind me. I caught the breath that had been stolen from me by alarm and thrashed out of the scrubs. I tossed them into a laundry sack and dissembled my clipboard. It was well after visiting hours and I feared that, in the worst case scenario, that either Masha would be waiting for me outside the closet or that someone would pull me aside and ask me why I was wondering after visiting hours.

Figuring that it was then or never, I slipped out and made my way calmly to my room. My heart beat in my chest harshly when I saw Masha open my door and stick her head in. She didn't investigate, as soon as she saw that I was gone she was reeling off to the break lounge. I traced my lips with the pads of my finger tips and scurried into my room. I bit my nails in thought. The break lounge, where other nurses were. Roger wouldn't be in there, his break was long over. But my doctor would be. I ended up biting my thumb to the nub. I would regret that later, for there would be a dull sting in my thinking habit's wake.

I looked around the room. '_Escape,_' I thought, '_I need an escape. I need an excuse. Closet. No. Bed. No._'

'_Bathroom._'

Saying that I was getting ready for a shower was a lot more believable than saying that I was in my closet. Why in the world would I be in my closet? Playing hide and seek? I don't think so. For a similar reason, I couldn't say that I was under my bed. The last thing I needed was a ward transfer due to my sudden symptoms of whatever insane disease that the scientists had come up with that week.

Bathroom. My face lit up and I could feel the light bulb switch on behind my eyes. And into the shower I went. I didn't have time to let the water warm, so I had to stick it out in the freezing water.

I had an excuse. I basically had an alibi in that shower. My whole body felt warm even though the water remained cold and I began to lose feeling in my fingertips. The smile that stretched my face felt as though it would break me. My breath smelt, I realized, and I began rinsing out my mouth fervently. I heard my door open just as I got through with scrubbing some shampoo into my hair line. I hopped out of the shower, threw on my white shirt and tights, and walked out with a few lonely suds still lingering in my hair.

When I exited the bathroom, both Masha and Dr Cullen were there. Although I was nervous to lie to my doctor for the first time, it was thoughtless. My autopilot was switched on. I knew I had been caught by Masha, but there was no proof. It seemed as though I had been in the shower the whole time. After all, she hadn't checked at all in my room. I could have been anywhere.

I played innocent, "Can I help you two?"

Dr. Cullen fixed me with a long and strong stare. I wasn't sure if I could fool him.

Masha looked baffled, "You weren't in your room."

I cocked my head to the side, "No I wasn't."

"Exactly, you were in the hallways, dressed in _scrubs_. What were you thinking Harper, you're going to overexert yourself like that! You can't go around impersonating nurses, it's against the law in fact!" Masha scolded me, worried and furious.

I shook my head, "Masha. I was in the bathroom. I thought I heard someone open the door, but when I didn't hear you call my name or come in I figured that you knew. So I jumped in the shower," I looked between my doctor and the nurse, with furrowed brows, "Is everything okay?"

Dr. Cullen brought himself into the conversation, "Masha was just worried, she thought she saw you and then when she went to go check on you, you were not on your bed."

I huffed, "I'm already practically locked in this room, don't tell me that you want me chained to the bed as well. I was only in the bathroom."

Masha dropped it and quietly apologized. She was embarrassed and knowing her, she didn't want to believe that she had made a mistake. Nonetheless she admitted the fault that I made her believe, though I knew it was only because my doctor happened to be around. She departed and it was only my doctor and I. I refused to meet his sappy eyes and instead I straightened out my ginormous short and tossed my towel over my head and rubbed it dry. Like I had thought before and I would think several times, Carlisle Cullen was a wise man. I was afraid that if I looked at him to soon, he would wiggle the truth out of me, making me break my own lie.

"I have a question for you Doc," I mentioned, "Have you given a thought to the piano at all since I mentioned it?" I waited, but he didn't reply as I worked with my hair.

I finished and walked past him, slinging my towel over his shoulder in a gesture of familiarly. I hopped on my bed and instantly got to the chore of piecing apart and combing through my hair. Sometimes I would wonder why we had our times of complete silence. Or rather I wondered why he would be so quiet. I knew that when there was no words spilling from my mouth I was either ignoring him and busying myself with something else or I was in thought. I knew that he would sit there and watch me, as if waiting for something to happen. As if he were waiting for my mysteries to unfold before his eyes.

Speaking of mysteries, there were plenty that I was sure that my doctor was keeping. As if your every day average man didn't already have enough skeletons in their closets, my doctor was not normal. I knew that my doctor was far from it, I just couldn't put my finger on it.

I was done working on the back of my head and I had move one to one of the sides when my doctor spoke.

"If I could be a word, I would be charisma."

I looked up through my damp hair, confused. I swept most of my hair over as I worked on the last chuck of untouched and tangled hair, "What?"

He didn't answer and instead took my towel from his shoulder and hung it over a chair before taking his usual spot on the wall, leaning back with his arms loosely folded over his chest.

"Oh!" I suddenly got it, "If I were a word I would be vivid."

I wasn't sure when it had become a game, but I could see it happening. It was endearing. I finally met his eyes and I knew he wasn't fooled. But he did not look upset.

He looked amused, "How was your shower?"

I raked through my hair, done with my job and responded, "Rather cold."

He laughed, "Do you often take cold showers in the middle of winter?"

I leaned back, "You know, I'm finding that I feel pretty tired. I think I'm going to sleep."

"Of course," he stepped from his place on the wall and made his way to the door, "Before I go, I have a question for you."

'_I'm so caught_.' I looked at him expectantly, "Go ahead, shoot."

"What's so important about the piano? You don't play, do you?"

My shoulders loosened and I grinned widely, "No, I don't. But Mrs. Robinson used to and she wants to play again at least once. Her ninetieth birthday is this Christmas and I was hoping that I could get some help finding her a piano, even if it would be for the day."

He was content with my answer because he did not ask for further explanation, "I see. Goodnight then. Sleep well."

"You too," I then called out an addition, "Oh, and Doc?"

"Yes Harper?"

"It's Miss. Connor to you."

He walked away, and I swear his shoulders were shaking slightly in

…..

My four witch balls were all so different. I know, I keep mentioning this, but it's important to me. The four that had broken were not my favorite, but they were dearly important. I couldn't be too sure of the order that they were broken, but I do remember the order in which I made them. Each of the eight that I had saved was created right after a large event in my life. An event that I wanted to remember or cherish. Or perhaps it was a memory that I wished to renounce.

One of the balls that was broken was the very first witch ball that I had blown. Now, I did all sort of glass blowing through my shortly lived career, but witch balls were my specialty. I created my first witch ball when I was nine. It was the first time I had been introduced to the art. It was very plain, simply clear and it was only about the size of my adult hand if I remembered correctly. My mother had saved it until I was fourteen, and that was when she gifted it back to me. No matter where I resided, I always hung it close to my sleeping area. I skipped out on the dream catchers, I didn't need them. I had my witch ball.

The second one of the eight that I originally had and had broken was the one that I made right after I dropped out of high school. I made it when I had almost just turned seventeen. Since school was never important to me, I thought it would be ironic if I made my milestone witch ball with the color of my high school and the schools rival school. So I made a witch ball that was a golden yellow, my schools home color, and a royal purple. The colors contrasted almost perfectly in my eyes when I made it. The tiniest bit of symbolism rung in my ears at the time. Clashing colors, brilliantly rebellious.

Next out of the four that I broke, I made a bright lime green one when I had just turned eighteen. It was made right after I found out I was pregnant with my second conception, the son who would have been Tony Lance McClark.

The most recently broken witch ball was also the one that I had made the most recently. I was five months pregnant with the daughter who would have been Layla Criot McClark. It was the most brilliantly colored, for when I had made the glass I was in the most optimistic mood. It was completely caste with bright, warm colors. Red, orange, and yellow.

The ones that I had left were usually the first things that I saw when I woke up. Ever since I became a resident at the hospital, I had begun sleeping on my back rather than my side. Most every morning I would wake up to a dimly lit room because it was hardly ever sunny where the hospital was located in Portland, Oregon. I also would wake to the sight of my hanging possessions.

That morning was no exception. I was laying on my bed, listening to a nurse stop by and check up on me before being on her way. As soon as my door shifted closed I opened my eyes. I blinked the sleep away and rubbed the corners of my creaking eyes. Sure enough, when I was alert and awake I looked up and saw all four of them.

I had slept like a rock and I was so much more serene after having my cigarette. Anywho, I was more then excited that Friday. Mrs. Robinson would be visiting and I yearned for her company and the gossip that I was sure that she would bring with her

I sat myself up after looking at the ceiling in thought for several moments. And, closely following my morning routine, I plucked five Smarties from my stash. Twirling one open and stuffing all fifteen tablets into my mouth, I found myself humming a happy little tune. I munched happily. It was usually how I got rid of morning breath; Smarties. I mean, I brushed my teeth too, after breakfast. But the first priority once I woke up every morning was to get the stale taste of sleep out of my mouth.

"Sugar for breakfast, Miss Connor?"

I dropped one of the candy rolls in shock, but I only mourned for it momentarily. I shot a glare at my doctor, "You need to learn how to knock!"

"I can assure you that I am well aware of how to knock Miss Connor," the man said as he wrote something on his clip board. He was early, once again. My nurses hadn't even done their first round. My schedule for check-ins use to be set in stone. They were sort of the same then, but only on days when my doctor didn't show up randomly. Usually my first check up is from the a morning shift nurse, usually a tall woman with long brunette hair. Then my doctor would show up for a bit. Next there would be a visit from a strawberry blonde nurse. Then my doctor once more. And finally, late in the evening, whoever picked up the wards night shift would peek in. It was changing all the time however, since nurses were in and out of the building all the time. Which is why most of the time I didn't bother remembering their name.

That's not to say that I wasn't polite to them of course. Usually I was nice…albeit a tiny bit sarcastic.

When my doctor shows up in the morning, he does not show up before lunch like he is supposed to. It had happened twice before that day. It wasn't normal and for someone who seemed to be such a perfectionist, he sure didn't keep to a strict schedule. My old doctor was never late and he never skipped around with his rounds.

"Then perhaps you should utilize your knowledge," I said curtly, opening another Smarties roll since the other one had opened when it hit the hospital floor, shattering some of the chalky tablets. There was silence, which wasn't uncommon, and I ended it the best way I could, "You know, if I were a gemstone I would be an opal."

I watched him crouch down and pick up my mess wearily. He was always going out of his way to keep the place tidy and he looked after me. He straightened out and tossed the reminisces of my treat into the waste basket, "And why is that?"

I blinked, thinking for a moment. He had never asked me to elaborate on my comments. He took my wrist, unwrapping the bandages from when my IV was removed. Taking a alcohol wet nap, he gently cleaned my wrist. He was so close and my skin jumped at the realization. He looked up at me while he took out new bandages, "Well?"

"I never really gave it much thought. I guess it's because although it's a gem it's an extremely soft one compared to the others. Most gems can be many colors, but only one color at a time. An opal comes in different colors and has a plethora of colors within itself regardless. We both have all different sorts of colors."

He nodded and began wrapping. "I supposed I would be a diamond," he started, "They last forever."

I arched a brow. I hadn't expected that, "I don't believe you."

"Oh? Care you elaborate Miss Connor?"My annoyance ticked at his over use of my name, but I couldn't place why.

"Diamonds might last forever, but they are plain. Everyone has diamonds, the ordinary little things. You sir, are far from ordinary and I'm sure you know that," I took careful care to not get caught in his sappy eyes, "Besides, you and I both should be aware that ordinary things don't ever survive in this world. And with today's ambitious styles, traditions won't last much longer in most places either."

"Miss Connor, I didn't think ordinarily and tradition had anything to do with the topic. I think you might be reading into it to much," he laughed and tucked the wrapping to perfection. He let my wrist go and I inspected it. Talk about precise.

"Well now it does. I don't care how much you like the idea of being a diamond. I demand that you be more creative with your stone," I ignored his watchful eye and began feasting on my Smarties again, "And don't look at me like that, my breakfast will be here soon and I'll eat that too."

He shook his head, "I didn't know that was allowed. To demand more from an answer, that is."

"Well I just added it to the rule book of our little game. Once per round a person can be asked to rethink their answer."

"Then I get to make a rule too. That sounds fair to me, wouldn't you agree Miss Connor?" he drawled teasingly as he took him place on the wall.

Blood rushed to my ears in frustration. I couldn't tell if he realized that he was saying my name constantly or not, but I had the itching feeling that he knew and that he was trying to make a point, "Go ahead then."

"I believe that explanations should be required."

"Well that's easy enough," I gave in before hopping back on his case, "So what will it be Doc?"

There was a small beeping and my doctors hand instantly went to his belt. It was his pager. He sighed, "I've got to go, I won't be around later for my afternoon rounds today."

I looked at him curiously.

"Don't look so disappointed Miss Connor, I'm taking a half day. It's promising to be sunny today," he explained. I looked out my window to see a thick clouds and a heavy drizzle. My eye brows raised at him and he grinned, "It's going to clear up and my family and I are going hiking."

Hiking. It sounded really nice, I hadn't really been outside in years. Sure, I had been on the hospital roof and the day before I had gone out for a stoge. But I hadn't really been outside. I wished that I could have been hiking with him and his family instead of sitting in a pale room. I smiled at the thought, "You'll have to tell me more about your kids sometime."

He returned the gesture, "I will," To me, it sounded like a promise, "Remember to eat all of your breakfast."

"Don't think that you are going to weasel your way out of this round Cullen! I'll get you for this," I shook my balled fist playfully with a withheld smile.

Then he left and I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. Having him as a doctor was turning out to be pleasant. I occupied myself with a notepad and a pen, doodling. None of them were good though. I did glass blowing, not various other mediums of art. For obvious reasons too, my drawing skills were seriously lacking. My doodles only really consisted of shapes and shading and stick figures.

Soon my breakfast arrived and not to long after that, so did Mrs. Robinson. I was messing around with the oatmeal that had been presented to me. It looked more gray than any color and I was not looking forward to eating it. But putting myself through eating was far better than being force fed. Which believe me, I had been through before and it is not at all fun. I took my fruit cup and peeled off the plastic wrap on it and dumped it into the bowl of slop.

She was wheeled into the room by Masha, who looked at me guardedly. I gave her an apologetic smile. "Good morning Mrs. Robinson, good morning Masha," I offered and took a bit of the oatmeal, grimacing at the bland taste and off texture.

Mrs. Robinson's face broke out in a grin and she giggled, "You look love struck. I should have known that it wouldn't be long." I choked on my spoonful and started hacking. Masha was the first one to react well as she handed me the plastic cup of water that was on my tray. I wheezed a thank you and struggled to drink my water.

"Excuse me?"

She shrugged and sent me a knowing look, "I guess you haven't realized a lot of things yet about your unordinary doctor."

She sounded like she had also noticed the extraordinary traits of my doctor. I scowled and pushed my meal away from me for a bit. I watched Masha ask Mrs. Robinson if she needed anything else. Mrs. Robinson shook her head and Masha left as quickly as she could.

"You're a crazy old coot," I finally said.

"I'm your favorite crazy old coot though," she replied easily.

"…I guess you've got me there," I admitted, rubbing my feet that were suddenly feeling soar.

…..

Another filler chapter, but it's about to speed up. New chapter we'll reveal more about Harper's old relationship and Carlisle will share about his family. I think I might bring Edward into the next chapter as well~

This story is going painstakingly slow! For me anyway. I don't know about you guys. And then we, myself and a very helpful character, can let Harper in on the secret. ;D

**acarly**, I'm glad that you appreciate Harper! I try to put little hints in to show just how sick she it without plain out writing 'I'm so very sick but I like you pretend that I'm not'. Let's face it, that wouldn't very much be Harper's style, now would it? I hope you keep reading and I'm glad that you like it. There definitely will be more. **OpiumCakes**, I'm working on updating more often! I really do appreciate that you keep reviewing, each review that I get makes me work more quickly, ahaha. I wouldn't go as far as to say that I have the best OC, but I defiantly do my best to make her a rounded character. I don't like OC's that fall to their knees at the sight of the heart throb, you know? **Blitzwings**, thank you for the reviews and for reading both of my stories, I'm glad that you are enjoying reading them!

_Also, to all readers, I put up a new story called A Vow Of Silence. Go check it out!_ Love, _ScribblerInNotes _

_PostScript. Review me, maybe?_


	5. Chapter 4: Photographs

Out of the four witch balls that I had left, the red witch ball had been a gift from my ex. Once I was admitted into the hospital he and I tried our best to figure out what to do with my supplies that took up so much of our apartment, or rather, our room. We ended up keeping them for three months before one of the nurses finally harshly told me that I wouldn't be leaving any time soon. Then we sold it all.

I had felt like I had lost yet another piece of myself and in an effort to cheer me up, he brought me the gift. I had opened it and was so happy that he was thoughtful enough to bring me one. I was even more euphoric when he told me that had made it. I pulled him into my cot bed and we sat with each other, completely enthralled by the other for hours on end.

How disgusting.

Only several days later did I find out the truth. My nurse at the time and I were taking a walk, me still hooked up to an IV. She had insisted that it was a good idea for me to stretch my legs. She told me that being cooped up in my room all day was not a good idea. So I complied. I only did so though because Anthony had been in class. I got along well with my nurse and we chatted all the way.

She took me to every nook and cranny of the hospital, telling me about the different wards, her coworkers, her boss, her bosses boss, and even more personal things like her boyfriend that she had been dating for seven months. We finally made it to the foyer. My eyes were caught on the sign that hung about a door way. I asked her if she minded terribly if we explore.

And so we entered the gift shop.

Sure enough, in the window, several witch balls hung, all identical in style to the one that Anthony had given me. My lip trembled before large tears began to fall quickly from my face. Soon I was in complete hysteria. He lied about something so simple. And that wasn't the only thing he had been lying about.

The floral scent of his shirt, his late arrivals to visit me, cunningly dancing around telling me about his day and what he did. My worst fears were coming true, my fiancé was a lying cheater. When he arrived that night though, I put on a smile and welcomed him with a longing kiss. He didn't notice that I knew, I was acting just as I always did. I even kept the witch ball hanging. I needed him.

…..

It had been about two weeks since the first day that my doctor had taken partially off to hike with his family. It was the eighth of December and a Wednesday. Since the year was coming to an end, I did my typical cleaning. But different from the other times that I cleaned in the previous years, I took out everything that was under my bed. I had things under my bed from when I first arrived that I never bothered to take out and sort through. A lot of what I used to consider to be sentimental, was then garbage in my eyes. I didn't have the motivation to clean everything out at the beginning of two thousand ten, but I had no excuse not to clean it right then. Two thousand and ten had seemed boring for the first ten months, but the last two had proven to be interesting. And interesting just happened to be an understatement.

I got everything out from under my bed just in time for the arrival of Masha, telling me that Mrs. Robinson had visitors and couldn't stop by. I frowned but nodded and told her that I understood. She wished me luck and, like the past several times that she had been around, left quickly in embarrassment.

I had managed to fill the small waste basket that was in my room with different papers. Some were blank, others were filled. A few of them were half used while a select one or two only had a couple of words on them. They were all diary entries from days in the hospital. Each page was a day and there were a lot of them. I must have kept a journal for the first two years, but it all read just the same. Self pity, angst, self hatred, blah, blah, blah.

I wished that they had been worth something, but each page was the same. Each page was hurtful. I had started out reading every single paper, looking at the date, but it all blurred and the dates helped nothing. Eventually I stopped reading and began skimming. Soon after that I stopped skimming and began shoveling the entries into the trash. I didn't need the negative bullshit that oozed from the inked memories and thoughts.

I found several sets of clothing, most of them didn't fit any longer. I must have lost a lot of weight, which was a horrifying thought. I was already so tiny. I ran my hands over my ribs and stomach. I used to be a little bit chubby, after all I was still losing my baby fat. I was still growing into my body. I also had just given birth to a still born when I arrived at the hospital. I considered my body for several minutes. It would have been so different if I hadn't gotten myself into the hospital. I only kept few of the articles of clothing, among them a single sun dress, several pairs of socks, an old pleated skirt, some shorts, a tank top or two, and a couple of sweaters. The rest I got rid of.

I went through designs from high school and after I dropped out. Most of them were stained glass sketches, which you wouldn't guess it, but they were pretty decent. I drew them in shapes, not as a whole. All of the shapes wedged together made the images that I wanted. The images that I could achieve through a stained glass mindset, but not in any other mindset. It used to upset me that I couldn't draw any other way, but it worked. It also sold a lot when I was still doing my glass art work.

I ended up limiting my sketches so they all fit into a folder that was build into my one sketch book. Next I attacked all of the books that were under my bed. Most of them weren't mine, so they went into a pile to be brought back to the library. I had thought that the book cases had gotten more bare since I had arrived and it turned out of that half of the books that belonged there were under my bed.

Some books that belonged to me were kept in an exclusive pile. I had three Anne Rice books, a novel that was a collection of Brother Grimm tales, an older copy of Peter Pan, a note book that was five inches thick and filled to the brim with notes on glass blowing and crafting, a guitar lesson book, and an old Bible that had belonged to my mother. I cringed at it, but put in my exclusive pile. I was raised without religion upon the request of my father, who was pagan. My mother however was born and raised a Christian. They had loved each other more than anything and had compromised on not teaching their kids either religion. I, in turn, went through many stages of beliefs as I grew up, but none of them really stuck. I remained without a true religion.

I was thankful for not being raised on religion, I believed that it had given me a open mind. I believed that it gave me an opportunity to respect every person and every religion, even if I was not like them.

I tossed out most everything, and I had a huge pile of trash next to my bed by the time that my doctor arrived for his first round of the day. I was sifting through a pile of photographs when he made himself known in my room, the room number 324 that was smack in the middle of a hall on the third floor of the hospital in Portland, Oregon.

"Good morning Miss Connor."

I looked up from the photo that was in my hands, wondering how he kept entering the room without me hearing the click of the lock and the scoff of his shoes. I shrugged off the thought though, some things slipped my attention. Not a whole lot, but it happened.

"Do those belong to you?" he asked as he entered the room, leaving my door open behind him. He moved around the bed, poking some of my trash piles with his shined shoe. He reached into his lab coat, yanking out a large black trash bag. I blinked several times as he set in on the bed in front of me. I looked confused, not having any idea what he was talking about. Of course the trash was mine. That's when he tapped his temple and I raised my hand up to the side of my own face. My finger tips brushed up on metal.

"Oh!" I realized, slipping off the glasses up the ridge of my nose, "I used to wear glasses all the time. Eighth grade through tenth grade I was forced to wear them by my father. I just decided to slip 'em back on for old time's sake." They had been his mothers and I had thought when I was younger that he wanted me to have and use something of hers. But in later years I suspected that he had predicted my heart failure, which had poor eyesight as a symptom. My mother also had a failing heart.

The frames were long and rectangular, made out of a sleek black wire. I used to find them rather ugly, but for some reason I found a new appeal in them when I put them on that morning.

"I never would have guessed," he mentioned, "Are you up to a new visitor today Miss Connor?"

I flicked another photo to the trash pile with a breathe, "A visitor? Well, of course I don't mind. I might mind, that is, if they were mental or overly abrasive. I'd like to think that you wouldn't bring someone like that into my dull white hospital room though, so consider that a side…" my voice got caught in my throat when I looked up to see a stranger, my guest, standing in my door way, "…Note."

He was tall, had some of the most purposely messy copper hair, and his eyes were similar to my doctors. A golden hue, but his was more liquid topaz than the sap color of my doctors. They were also more sad and agonized. My own mood fell at how miserable he looked. Similar to my doctor, he had purple staining under his eyes. His face was angular with high cheek bones and a straight nose. He was wearing a light colored fitted shirt with a leather jacket. His jeans were dark blue and on his feet were some brand of sleek sneaker.

I wondered who he was, '_I never thought I would ever have a new visitor at all, let alone one who's apparent discontent rivaled my own,_' I thought humorously. Though, things were looking much better for my mood with my new doctor around.

"Oh," then it clicked, "Why didn't I notice sooner? You and your father run like two kinds, cut from the same stone…" I couldn't catch the words before they leaked. I groaned softly at my own slip of tongue, "That sounds slightly mental. What I meant is that you both have very similar traits but are also incredibly different in appearance as well."

I could have gone on to say that it was my doctors clean cut look opposed to his sloppy aura, but I figured it would be rude to mention so I discarded the thought and shook my head slightly, trying to make a good impression on my doctors son, "I ramble a lot, sorry. I'm Harper Angela Connor. Pleased to meet you…?"

"My name is Edward. I've heard a lot about you, it's great to finally meet you," he said. He sounded like he meant it. However, his words didn't reach his eyes. The thought of my doctor talking about me to his family was unbearable, and I had to look away from his son. I glanced at my doctor, who was watching our interaction very carefully. I focused back in on my photos. The top picture was one of the nurses that had passed through the hospital. I moved it off the bed and into the trash pile. The next one was a picture of my old apartment, which I unceremoniously tore into tiny pieces.

"Edward is one of my youngest," my doctor interjected.

I glanced up at the clock, seeing that it was only noon, "Isn't school still in session?"

"Edward was feeling ill today, instead I brought him to work today."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I hope you feel better soon Edward," I shrugged. It was a likely story, and I wasn't about to openly question him. He looked fine to me, even if he did look abnormally miserable.

In the corner of my eye, I saw a strained smile pull over his face, "I hope so as well."

'_My angst is pale in comparison to his,_' I thought in my own brand of bland humor. I tried to place a finger on what he could possibly be dwelling on. Knowing my nature, I wanted to share some sort of wisdom. And yet I held my lips shut, which was probably for the better. I was sure that he wouldn't appreciate any sort of vague words I could have shared. Instead of using words to wish him the best, I fixed him with a look. He met my eyes head on and I almost backed down. Edward had a hard, blank stare on me as if he could hear my pondering. As if he could tell that I wanted to spew simplistic advice.

Simplistic advice would have been all I could have offered since I didn't know his pain and woes. Instead I tilted my head to the side and only said a pair of words.

"You will."

I fingered the edges of the next and last photo that I had in my pile. Yanking myself from the communication that I had with Edward, I studied it. Nostalgia tugged at my mind and I laughed roughly.

"I thought I had lost my pictures of this," I flipped it over and looked at the year, "Senior Prom of class '94."

My doctor had been at his place on the wall while he watched Edward, from the door way, speak to me as I sat on my bed with all of my belongings around me. He pushed off from the wall and found himself right next to my bed. I was forced to put down my photo as he began fixing my wrists which were due for new bandaging. My skin danced when he was close to me, and I watched his eyes that were so caught on my wrists. From where I was sitting I could see right down his head. I started at his slightly ruffled hair from the previous hours of work, then his crinkled in-thought forehead, which soothed into his set brows and then his eye lids. Frosting his pale eye lids were inky but blond eye lashes. His familiar sap eyes didn't look up at me as I watched him work, which I was thankful for. Below his eyes were the usual purple dark circles from obvious lack of sleep. His cheeks, nose, his mouth- both his lips and teeth- were beyond my angles sight and his chin dipped just beyond what I could see.

He was gone as soon as he came and I blinked away the shock. My photo was not in front of me any longer and I looked around the room. First I saw Edward who managed to look a bit smug. I convinced myself that Edward was just grinning at something on his own mind, but I couldn't help but feel as though he had seen how I was observing his father. Then I saw his father- my doctor- with my photo in his hand.

"You went to prom?" he asked.

I nibbled at my lip, "He and I crashed what would have been my senior prom."

Edward moved up next to his father and looked over his shoulder, "Interesting attire." And if I was insane, I wouldn't have noticed his tease.

"He, Anthony, wanted to spend a lot of money on my dress… He said that I deserved it. I figured it would be much more of a kick if I showed up in, well, you see."

I was passed back the photo and I marveled who I used to be. It was a picture of my ex and I up on stage after nicking the queen and king crowns from their respective owners. The queen was glaring at us with her mouth hung open. Her claw like nails were raised in the air in fury. The king could have cared less as he leaned back and watched us with amusement.

Anthony was wearing his work clothing; a nice black suit and his reading glasses, his dark brown hair slicked back. His crown was tilted to the side while he laughed whole heartedly while the picture was taken.

I was wearing some clothing that had been in my closet for ages. My body was encased in a Union Jack dress that had no sleeves and reached mid thigh. I had on leather lace up combat boots that reached mid calf. To complete the outfit itself, I had dug up my old leather biking jacket. My hair was pulled into a messy, spiky bun. Painted ruby red lips curved in a Cheshire grin, my black nails holding my stolen crown in place. Brown eyes were hidden with dark eye shadow and it all looked dangerous against my own pale skin.

I scoffed, and tore it in two right between Anthony and I. We had, after all, been standing at least three feet apart. I folded up the side with Anthony and held it out to my doctor.

"Do me a mean minute favor?" I asked pleasantly, "I trust that you can find a good way to get rid of this."

He didn't question me. He took the picture from my hands and, without looking at it, my doctor put it into his coat pocket. He offered me a serene smile. I managed to hold down a huge smile.

I moved my half of the picture into my exclusive pile.

"I'm sensing a need to get rid of this Anthony person," I heard Edward say under his breath. I wrinkled my nose at his comment, but decided to ignore him.

"Any photo's of your own Doc?"

As soon as the words left my mouth, my doctor conjured up his wallet. He seemed more than eager to share his photo. My eyes moved between an apathetic Edward and a pleasant doctor. His wallet was very burly, it was a dark brown and I was sure that it would smell of musk. Similar to its owner.

I found a small photo in my grasp. There were eight figures. One of them was my doctor. Another was Edward. A family photo. I supposed I didn't realize how large his family was until I had the visual. He was definitely a family person. They all looked cozy and content.

"You have a lovely family," I said sincerely. Carlisle was in the middle of the photo, wearing what must have been his casual clothing. Black jeans and a button up blue shirt. Blue seemed to be his color, it looked good. One of his hands was propped on his waist while the other was on the shoulder of who I recognized to be Edward.

Edward had his arm around a girl who had hair that matched his. She was gorgeous and a wide smile showed off her teeth. She was glowing with content, they all were. Even Edward looked happy when the shot was taken. The tallest of the group had russet skin, he was so different from the rest of them. He had his hand on the top of the girls head, ruffling it up.

"Would you like to know who everyone is?" Edward asked.

I looked up quickly, "Please."

My doctor hovered toward me, "The girl next to Edward is Renesmee, she's…"

"My sister," Edward ground out. I nodded.

"He boy with his hand on her head is Jacob Black, he's a dear family friend," Carlisle continued. I could hardly call Jacob a boy, but I figured my doctor knew what he was talking about, "These two are Rosalie and Emmett."

He pointed to a couple, a man who was rather tall and bulky with muscle and a woman who was not that much shorter than him who was sturdy with beauty. He had short and dark hair and she had wheat blonde hair. Emmett's arms were tucked around her waist and they were not looking at the camera, but instead were looking at each other.

"This is Jasper and Alice," he pointed to another tall male, but he was standing next to a terribly small girl. Her hair was short and choppy, inky and lively. His hair was blond, and if I remembered correctly, him and Rosalie were twins. Alice was winking at the photographer, a half grin on her lips. I instantly liked her, she was full of spunk which I could tell by looking at the expression on her face. Jasper was not looking at the camera, but was resting his forehead on Alice's temple while one of his hands resting on the curve of her hip.

They all were standing close together, it was a great shot. They couldn't have been at a portrait studio, the background was far too personal. They were in a study in front of a marvelous mahogany desk and set further back was a shelf. A grand shelf full of books.

It made me think briefly of my family way back. My mother and father, my older brother Charles and I. Or now, how it could have been my father who was running his own successful company, my brother who was married and had two sons, and myself. My brother worked at my father's company.

"Who took the shot?" I asked mindlessly.

"One of Jacob's friends who is also a close family friend, Seth Clearwater," I heard my doctor respond.

There was a air cutting beep and I looked up from the photo and up wearily at my doctor's waist, "Your pager has interesting timing."

"I have to agree," my doctor chuckled.

I stuck my hand out for Edward, "It was great meeting you, Edward…." then I added on for good measure, "Do well in school."

Edward cocked his head but took my hand in a freezing firm shake, "Do you ever practice what you preach?"

My ears flushed, and I glared at my doctor. He held up his hands in surrender while I released Edward. Or maybe it was the other way around, Edward released me.

"Rest Miss Connor, I'll be around later."

I deadpanned, noticing that he was back to over using my last name. Over the two weeks it had become even more aggravating than before. I gave back his photo and he put it back into his wallet.

"Yeah, yeah, see you then Doc," I called after him as he left. Edward gave me a final nod before following his father out. I waved before rocking off of my bed. I sluggishly picked up the trash bag that my doctor had left for me and began to gather all of the trash piles that I had made.

Doctor Carlisle Cullen didn't have children. Or rather, he didn't have children that were related to him by blood. And yet in the picture that he had shown me, something was off. Sure, each of them being stunning was not impossible. But I couldn't help but notice the golden hued eyes, shadowed circles, naturally rose colored lips, and the alabaster skin. With the exception of Jacob, but he was not one of my doctors kids.

They were not all related, and yet their physical traits were uncannily the same. It could have been nothing. It could have been that Carlisle just looked in those traits in a child that is up for adoption.

Honestly, at the time I would not have put it past him. In my mind, Carlisle Cullen was a perfectionist beyond definition and if I had found that that he did hand pick his children for certain identical traits, I would not have been surprised. Disgruntled and judgmental, but not taken by surprise.

The thought of the unusually gorgeous and abnormally similar children didn't leave my restless mind as I tossed the filled to the breech trash bag next to the door. I had limited all of my belongings down to a cardboard box and my navy Bucket o' Belongins. Calling it a successful flush of all junk in a five foot radius, I allowed myself to lay down and relax for the rest of the day. I was counting down the days until my doctor would put me back on my IV. I was not looking forward to that time, but it was bound to happen.

I was never free for long.

…..

Time was irrelevant as I sat in my bed. The clock on the wall ticked more slowly that I ever remembered. I was staring ahead of me, not truly seeing anything. The door creaked open. My heart began to soar and a grin spread over my lips.

"Hey Doc, it's about time you sh-"

It was not my doctor at my doorway though. There stood Anthony McClark, clear as day. His dark hair touched the bottom of his neck, and his eyes were the same brilliant hazel. He was wearing a black pin striped suit and a pair or reading glasses sat on the end of his nose. His tie was red and I could smell the leather of his Italian shoes. He was just as I remembered him from the day that he left me for good.

"What are you doing here?" I managed. He didn't say anything as he slunk over and towered over me. I was frozen but then he reached his large hand out for me and I scrambled into action. I pushed myself away from him and rolled out of my bed, his blank eyes and tight mouth more frightening anything he could have done to me. The anticipation outweighed the potential damage.

Hitting the floor, I let out a grunt before I scrambled to my feet and made a mad dash for the door. The wind was knocked out of me and I was yanked back to the floor. My ankle was chained to the bed, my flesh swelling around the cuff. The color of my shin changed as it became enflamed. Letting out a cry of fury and fear, I yanked on the chain, my eyes darting up to Antony and back to my ankle.

Anthony was so close and he leaned down with both hands extended out when the chain simply snapped. I crawled backwards, made it to my feet, and flew the door open. My hospital gown hung off of one of my shoulders as I pushed past the faceless nurses that were slowly strolling down the hall.

The further I made it around the hospital, the more faces began to appear. Smiling, mocking, laughing faces. I raced past Wendy's desk and through the automatic doors. It was sunny out, something that was very uncommon. I knocked into someone and fell back onto my ass. I swore several times, my breath shorter than what my body wanted to deal with. My chest tightened, I couldn't breathe.

"I stayed with you for years and even stuck by you while you were in the hospital and this is how you repay me?" Once again, my ex was above me. I cried out for help but no one was around. Masha had been back in the hospital, laughing. My doctor wasn't going to be around because of the weather. He would be camping. I was on my own, "You rant off our stories to some freak stranger!"

I let out a dry sob, trying to catch my breath, "I… owe… you nothing!"

He swooped down and gripped both of my forearms, hauling me up. Only my toes were touching the ground and I was face to face with the man that had left me with little to nothing. He shook me violently once and then again. I clawed at his wrists.

A hand appeared and gripped Anthony's shoulder and he dropped me. I braced my fall with my hands. There was a crack and at first I thought I had broken something, but then I saw that I was wearing my watch. The face was cracked and the glass was on the ground. Yet, it continued to tick. A constant tick. A continuous tick.

Anthony was toe to toe with my doctor. My doctor, who was gleaming in the sun- no, glittering. My doctor was sparkling. Anthony reached into his suit pocket and out he pulled a semi automatic gun.

I was suddenly very tired. Fatigue took over my form.

BANG BANG.

I let out a blood curdling screech, bolting upward and into the arms of someone, "No! NO!"

My warm body was suddenly chilled, I dug my hands into the cotton of a shirt, and I was hushed until the only thought running in my mind was how he wasn't there and how he wouldn't.

"He wouldn't. He wouldn't," I sobbed out.

"You're burning up Miss Connor."

I was pushed back into a laying position on my bed and I instantly covered my dripping eyes with my hands. No one was supposed to see me cry. And that would be the second time that my doctor had. It was the third bad day within month. They were getting more close together and I was become less stable, emotionally and physically.

Before I knew what I was doing I forced myself out of my bed, my dream in mind. I moved around my bed to the window and opened it a crack.

"What are you doing?"

"Get out," I whispered, "I need to be alone for a bit."

"Your temperature is-"

"Get out, get out, get out!" I yelled racking my hands down my face and tugging at the ends of my hair. I reached for the closest thing to me, which happened to be a wooden paper weight, and chucked it at him. The throw made my dizzy and I steadied myself on the table near the window. Thankfully, the paper weight missed my target completely and thudded to the ground.

Still calm, my doctor backed away, his eyes sympathetic. I hated it when people looked at me like that. I glared at him and stomped my foot, pointing toward the door.

He raised his hands in surrender, "I'll be right outside the door. You cool down for ten minutes and I'll be back." He disappeared from the room and I felt more alone than I had in a while.

I finally brought myself to wonder the most painful thoughts that I could. How long had his affair been going on? Had it begun after the first miscarriage when he took on 'more hours' at his second job? All those times that he couldn't make it to my art shows, where was he? Was he with her on nights that he didn't come home until past midnight? Who was she?

I imagined someone who was my opposite. A pretty and tall blonde with gorgeous green eyes. She would wear pink shirts and denim shorts, when she wasn't dressed casual she probably worked with him wearing formal clothing. She probably had ambitions to rival the world, she probably had her life planned out to a Tee. I could imagine that she wanted to settle down with a family someday, and retire young so she could take care of the grandkids. I saw her being patient and level headed. I saw her as the slightest bit ditsy to humor Anthony's ego.

What I saw, I resented. But not for the common motive. She was everything I wasn't right then because that was everything that I would hate to be right then. I pitied the imaginary woman who I pictured my ex with. I resented the fact that I hated this imaginary woman. In my mind, she wasn't who she put herself out to be. No, she poured herself into the mold that Anthony made for her, willing to do anything that Anthony wished.

I rubbed my hands together roughly, trying to alleviate the stress and angst that my sweating body was with holding. On my wrist was the same watch that I had cracked in my dream. It was another gift from Antony. He had told me that I had to keep time if I wanted to keep my head screwed on right. He told me that when the watch read five in the afternoon, he would always be there no matter what. Wind or rain or snow or sand or traffic. On the back was engraved, _To my only love. Always on time, always at five._

Another lie. Three of them in fact. I was not his 'only love', he was not always there at five, and he was most definitely not always on time.

My dreams were never that clear, never that vivid, never so close to home as that one. I wanted to throw up and get it all out of my system. I wanted Him gone from me, mind and body. I wanted Him out of my memories.

He had made me so dependant on him. He made me want to become unbreakable and untouchable. He made me want to break.

Or better yet, He made me want to break _something_. I braced myself on the head board of my bed and reached up. Enclosed in my long fingers was the witch ball. His gift. His lie. For stress relief and, yes I will admit it, dramatic effect, I raised it above my head and then brought it down as quickly and as strongly as I could. It shattered. My tears stopped. I broke it because I needed to stop; I needed to stop crying and hurting and taking it out on those around me. I broke it because I was done with him and his memories. I broke it because I wanted to start new. Maybe I broke it because I was going mental. But I did know one thing that rose above my other reasons.

I broke it because the imaginary girl and my past self had so much in common. And I was no longer anything like the imaginary girl.

"And you had best stay down!" I found myself scolding, jabbing my finger toward the red and clear shards that now covered most of the floors surface. I leaned back on the bed head board, giggling slightly. I was woozy. I tucked my arms behind my head, knowing not to move. The room was quiet, with the exception of the melodic ticking of the watch. I slipped it off and tossed it onto my bed. I inwardly decided that I didn't have to break it to get rid of it. I would just have to scratch out the engraving.

I came close to cursing Anthony out loud and asking him how he liked being mistreated, but I realized three things. First off, it didn't matter because Anthony no longer mattered after the past years. Second off, it would make me look even more insane than I already seemed. And last off, he wouldn't be able to hear me.

"Miss Connor, Are you quite finished?"

I pursed my lips and I could feel my cheeks flush an undesirable pink, "Leave it to you to be completely composed after I wake up screaming, throw a mental fit, and then shatter a piece of glass work all over the place! Only you Carlisle Cullen, only you!" I stomped my foot for the second time that evening.

"You're going to hurt yourself that way Miss Connor," my doctor chided, maneuvering his way over toward me. I looked at the floor, inspecting the damage. The witch ball shattered in every which direction to my wicked delight. I only had three witch balls left. I ogled them as Dr. Cullen helped me by lifting me onto my bed in a swift quick movement. Or at least it felt quick. I couldn't tell because either way, the room was spinning. I had to close my eyes. I was sitting with my legs dangling off the edge of the bed, my face scrunched up in minor discomfort.

I held onto his forearms since his hands were resting just under my arms, "I would have been fine." Distantly I could recognize my doctor prying my hands from him and leaving me to fetch something from one of the draws in the room. Medication was being handed to me and I took them dry, refusing the water that was offered to me. He sighed and once again tried to coax that water into my grip. I pushed it away, trying to spill it over him, but he pulled back his arm, so it only sloshed around dangerously. I was so weary of having water, food, and medication stuffed down my throat.

"Miss Connor…" he began. I lifted my eyelids and my tongue became sharp.

"Stop," I snapped angrily, "I'll take the water and drink it. But only if you stop calling me Miss Connor!"

"Weren't you the one who insisted that I not call you Harper?" his voice slowly came more into focus, the meds acting more quickly than I had expected. Not that I was complaining of course. He sounded a slightest bit smug, though it only under toned his casual demeanor that he always used with me. And anyone else really, I assumed.

"You over use it and it has been so aggravating because I know that you are just trying to get a rise out of me!" I exclaimed, "Are you happy now? You've got the raise and you have permission to use my first name. Are you satisfied?" I managed to lean forward with every passing word, my fury distracting me from the pleased smile on his face.

"More that you'll ever know," he replied, reaching forward and pushing back the strands of hair that had fallen into my face. My whole body reeled backward and my ears warmed up as the icy touch that had swept across my forehead. I couldn't think of anything to say so I blubbered out the first thing that came to mind.

"You have some really poor circulation," I muttered, my eyes flickering from his unusual eyes to my nervously jittering and swinging legs and then back again. His hand still hung mid air and his eyes were holding a foreign emotion even though his face continued to remain flawless.

I tilted my head to the side.

"Make sure to get a good nights rest," he said finally, dropping his hand and smiling kindly. Moving back and further away from me, he conjured up his clip board and took some notes. '_How odd._'

I broke out of my gaze, "Doc's orders?" I tried to lighten the rooms mood.

"Absolutely," my doctor replied, "I'll have someone come and clean up your mess."

I nearly debated, saying that I could clean it up myself. I let that one go, "Fine." I squirmed myself back into my bed and pulled my covers up. My eyes still felt dry from my previous tears I was eager for the morning to arrive so I could wash my face. I didn't want to risk getting glass stuck in my foot.

"I'll see you tomorrow Harper."

Out of habit I almost corrected him, but instead I settled for a disheveled grunt, folding my arms over my chest.

"Enjoy your evening," I muttered.

"I will."

Once again, like many other days and nights, I watched my doctor slip out of my pale walled room. It felt more empty. I sighed, whether from the medication, content, or grief I do not recall. But I do remember slipping into one of the most peaceful sleeps. A type of restful sleep that I hadn't enjoyed fully in ages.

…..

I hoped you liked this chapter. (: I think I know why Harper is so dramatic. I think she is slightly insane. I didn't mean to write her that way, but you know how characters can get; they have a mind of their own. Also, the little details in her dream (short breath, tight chest, swollen feet and calves, and fatigue) are symptoms of heart failure, which is what she is in the hospital for. She's under constant watch for that. She is illegible for a heart transplant and she has no where else to go. So the hospital is where she stays.

Hey again **OpiumCakes**, hope you liked this chapter too! I sped up this chapter a little bit, just a little time jump. I'm glad you find it realistic, it's what a aim for. Harper is tied to what she believes is reality and I want to really stress the difference between where we are now in the story and how it will be once she learns the Cullen's secret. Thanks for the review! **Ladeyjezzabella**, I'm glad that you think it is really balanced! I can't thank you enough for your great review, it was full of amazing comments. I've written a lot, which means I have created a lot of characters, but I think Harper might be my favorite.

Readers in general? Perhaps you are interested in my mother story that I am working on, that will be the next thing that I update, A Vow Of Silence. It's an Alec/OC story. :D See you all real soon. Love, _ScribblerInNotes._


	6. Chapter 5: Blankets And Brisk Behavior

**AUTHORS NOTE. Ohboy.**

I'm sorry that I've been gone for so long, I've been overly caught up in my social life… Enjoying getting another year older and the freedom that comes with it I guess. BUT, I have to stress how awful I feel. After the last chapter I was ready to write several more… and then I hardly got any reviews… I was a bit of a brat about it and I am so sorry. You have my word that I won't let silly stuff like that keep me from writing.

So, Harper is wicked excited to see you all again, and so am I. Welcome back to PRD!

**Man, this is just too weird… I have to reread all of my work to remember where I was going with my crazy plot…**

…..

I was a bit irritated. Well, that is a lie. I was very irate. My doctor did not show up for that whole day. Which, of course, equaled another dull Thursday. I woke up to only three witch balls and that thought was unusually comforting. The floor was just as spotless as it had been before the incident. It looked as though the whole ordeal had never happened. I was content with the lack of sentimental objects. Unlike most days, I was awake as soon as I came to my senses. It was an other rainy day- what a shocker here in Portland but I was pleasantly surprised. The forecast for that day had predicted a sunny day. Well, pooh on the forecast for misguiding all of its watchers.

It wasn't until later into the eve, around nine, that I caught wind of my doctor. I was still awake, my sketch book on my lap. My door opened and I looked up, only to be disappointed by the face of a nurse. She looked surprised to see me awake, "It's about time for lights out miss."

I nodded, "Alright, just give me a moment to wrap up and I'll be to sleep." It was a lie, I was not at all tired and as soon as she left and she shut the light out, I would shimmy my way out of bed and into my possessions. Of course I have a personal light. I had just gotten into sketching that evening and I wasn't about to put down my pen that easily.

"Take your time, your doctor asked me to cover checking you over since he couldn't make an appearance today. He was asked to scrub into several surgeries today. Oh, that Doctor Cullen…" she sighed softly, moving around my bed and going through the motions of my doctor. I rolled my eyes slightly. There was no use in checking me over, my other nurse visits covered that just fine. I assumed that she wanted to get onto my doctors good graces. I let her do as she wished and then patiently watched her take her leave.

I rolled out of bed and trotted over to my things. I felt my way over to my pile, stumbling quite a few times over the smooth surface of the tiled floor. I was tripping over my own feet, simply at the thought of being in the dark. I wasn't afraid of the dark, but it disoriented me. When I was much younger, when I first got my glasses, my brother Charles had scared the living crap out of me. I had been told that it was likely that I was going to go completely blind. My older brother was always a josher, I should have known that he was simply mocking me, but it still stuck. I did after all lock myself in my room for a week that summer because of it, and without my mother around my father didn't know what to do. So he had just left me in there to come out on my own.

When I did make an appearance my father instantly debunked the story that my brother fed me. Nonetheless he scolded me for believing such things, I was going into eighth grade and should have known better. Then he went on to enforce me always wearing my glasses. Still, the thought of losing my sight itches at me.

Moving different articles around, I soon found my shiny blue light and brought it back into bed with me, flicking it back on far before I got comfortable in bed again.

…..

I was stuck in limbo, somewhere between reality and a dream when she appeared. It was abrupt, which I later learned was simply her style. She popped out of no where when it was convenient for her and she knew how to work to get what she wanted. She moved with unimaginable grace and was truly my favorite kind of punk. The one with sass and spunk.

I would not find out for a long time that she had slipped through my hospital window instead of using the door or how she tinkered with the door lock once she was in to assure an easy escape. I would never find out how long she had been standing there at the sill, watching me shiver from the blistering winter air that she had let in, adding to the already frosty hospital temperature. However, I would learn her name and truly discover their secret that eve… I just didn't know it at the time. When she entered, the room quickly filled with the faint scent of farm, not that I could smell that at the time.

"Harper…?" she whispered, her voice as sweet as wind chimes. I didn't move, and so she repeated a little bit more urgently, a little more loud, "Harper?" My body didn't move, and I did not wake up. My dreams still tugged at me, trying to bring me completely submerged in their illusions. Man, was I lined up for a startling wake up call.

I wasn't wearing socks, and it wouldn't have really helped my situation out much, but at least there wouldn't have been such a huge shock. Never before had my feet been wrapped in such a freezing temperature. She dove her hands into the thin hospital blanket, clenching them around my feet.

"HOLY HELL!"

I nearly jumped out of my skin. I lunged into a sitting position and brought my knees to my chin, tucking my feet into my hands, trying to warm them. Disoriented, I finally noticed the culprit of my shock. It was none other then one of my doctors kids.

"Sorry about that, you didn't wake up though!" she chirped, "I'm Alice, and you must be Harper Connor." She gave her short inky hair a ruffle and I took a moment to admire her outfit. Alice was wearing a pair of chic gray jeans that tented around her red flats. Her blouse was white and draped over both of her shoulders gracefully. She was tiny, just like in the picture and over her small arm was a very thick, sapphire blue, wool blanket.

"How did you get in here?" I blurted, rubbing my hands over my arms, "I mean- uh, hello. I am. Harper, I mean."

"Well, I knew that already," she took my hand easily, without waiting for me to provide it for her. She gave a dainty grip and curtseyed, much to my surprise and entertainment pleasure. I was used to the cold hands of my doctor, so it took me several moments to realize just how chilled her temperature had been. She patted the blanket affectionately, "My dad had me bring you a blanket. He's very busy at home right now, but he knew it was going to be a bitter night." Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I moved my sketch book from my chest, shut off my mini light, and put them both to the side. Observing the blanket, the thread count was evidently large and it would easily wrap around me several times. Alice flipped it open and gave an extravagant presentation wave.

"It's a lovely blanket," A rush of heat flew to my ears, and I found myself laughing slightly, "I suppose you must be pretty busy delivering these blankets to all of his patients." Alice let out a laugh, her voice tinkling in a way that I almost envied. Shaking her head as if in disbelief, she tossed the blanket over my legs. I ran my hands over the blanket, not looking at her.

"Nope, just you. He is out eating with the boys and he sends his apologies for not being able to bring it himself," Alice said. Digging myself into the wool, I wrapped myself up without much thought. At first I didn't want to believe Alice, but then I thought back to Mrs. Robinson and how she thought I was in love. I had scoffed at her when she said it, but at the moment I just blushed severely.

I really appreciated his company and his thoughtful acts. He definitely knew how to deal with my theatrics and I could roll with his abrupt mystery. Not to mention I could get under his skin. I wondered if that was something that I should have been proud of. I decided it was, since he was always so level headed. So much so that it would get under my skin to think about how easy going and compassionate and charismatic that man was. My doctor may have been a subject that I was not well read on, but he was definitely a topic worth looking into.

'_Not for romantics,_' I rushed to explain. '_I just want to know more._' I forced the silly grin on my face to deflate, inhaling deeply into the blanket. I smelled nothing. I should have known then just how deep I was getting myself into my doctor. Or maybe I already knew and I just wasn't ready to admit it to anybody, let alone myself. It's got to be bad when you are trying to convincing yourself against something that you secretly want so bad.

The lower half of my face was covered when I noticed Alice again. I avoided eye contact as she watched me with a knowing stare and murmured pleasantly, "Thanks for bringing this. I appreciate it. I'm sorry that you are out so late though, this is an awful time for…" I tried not to imply that she was tiny and therefore probably not alright to be out alone, but that's what I was thinking, "Well, for anyone to be out really. How are you getting home?"

"Oh, I'm parked just around the corner, don't lose any sleep over me getting home," she waved off, "I should be going soon though." She made a shimmying motion toward the door, and I amusedly grinned at her half heartedly. I had been right when I looked at her in my doctors picture, she was a complete quirk.

"Alright, it was great meeting you, sorry about my sleep drenched first impression…" I said a bit sheepishly, "Drive safely, alright kid?" I winked at her. She laughed and went to open the door. I bit my lip and called out to her, "Alice!"

She looked over her shoulder at me, "Yes Harper?"

"Send your father my thanks for the blanket… it was really sweet. He doesn't need to apologize for not making it here today."

"Sure thing! Sleep well."

I watched her leave, easily sauntering out the door and clicking it behind her. I waited several minutes before hopping out of my bed. I tried not to pay mind to my freezing feet. Charming or not, Alice didn't get in through the door. I was sure of it. The nurse always locked the doors when she finished her rounds. I didn't care if she was new or not, nurses always locked the doors, it's part of the late night shift rounds job. I knew that the door could be unlocked from my side of the door, but the outside of the door could only be unlocked with a key. A key that I really didn't believe that Alice would have, even if she was my doctors daughter.

But that would make sense. How did my doctor expect Alice to get in to my room without a key? But I didn't see a key and she didn't lock me in again. Surely if she unlocked the door with a key should would take it upon herself to lock it again. Unless she was just being courteous and didn't want it to make it seem as if she was locking me into a jail cell and therefore left it for me to lock.

So she may have had the key, but it never made an appearance when her and I were talking. I looked to the only other possible entrance or exit to my room. The window was cracked open, which I hadn't remembered doing, but I quickly reasoned that Alice couldn't have come in from the window. I traced the window pane with my fingers before wrenching it up. Sure enough, every thing was just as I knew it to be. Below my window was not a side walk or a court ward or any of that jazz. Under my window was a roof top to another part of the hospital. Sometimes I would watch other doctors or nurses take their break down on the roof. There were times that they would see me and we would chat. Other times I would just observe them. But it was a whole story below my window. There was no way a normal teenage girl could get into my room through the window.

"Unless she isn't normal," I muttered humorlessly. I had decided since the beginning with the old doctor had introduced Carlisle Cullen that he was abnormal. Neither of the kids that I met were normal either. It was like… "It's like they're not human."

I blinked before laughing at myself aloud. I decided to go back to sleep. Right before I did so though, I examined the outer knob. She definitely didn't use a hair pin or anything. Locking my door once more, I retired for the night wearily.

…..

The next day was Friday. I was reading on my bed while Mrs. Robinson stared out of my window, tapping her fingers over her table top in some imaginary piano piece. I heard my door open but I didn't look up.

Instead, I addressed my friend, "Did you know, Mrs. Robinson, what my favorite time is?" Flipping to my next page, I marked my progress and shut my reading material. Mrs. Robinson regarded me briefly by stopping her hand patterns and shifting her dazed eyes toward me. I proceeded, "If I were a time of day, I would be 11:59pm. And not only because I seem to get visitors around that time either."

"Good morning Harper," my doctor made himself known aloud. Tilting my head to him, I smoothed my new blanket over my legs. I heaved a sigh and smiled a bit. It was the tenth of December and though that meant I only have fifteen days to put together Mrs. Robinson's birthday gift, it also meant that the hospital would become a bit more quiet. The last stretch of days before Christmas were always the more quiet.

"Hello Doctor, and what might your favorite time be?" I asked swiftly.

Playing along willingly, the mad didn't hesitate, "I prefer the sun rise, whatever that time may be. May I ask you why 11:59 is your favorite time, Harper?"

Pursing my lips, I rose my brow, "Well, isn't it obvious? On New Years Eve, everyone is hovering with anticipation for a set of goals or that first kiss of the year." Doctor Cullen smirked and set to work. Mrs. Robinson gave me a knowing look and meant to open her mouth, but I waved her off quickly and began reading once more.

Mrs. Robinson and I had been discussing Doctor Cullen all morning, and she kept saying the oddest things. She continuously mentioned how 'out of this world' and 'unnatural' he was and when ever I would ask her what she meant, she would simply teeter out a laugh and move on with her chit chat. The eating feeling of being left out continuously nibbled at my mind, much to my dismay. Mrs. Robinson had always proven to be a mysterious and cryptic person, but I had never found it so absolutely infuriating as I did at that point. As near and dear as the woman was to me, sometimes I wished that she didn't find the need to appear as wise as she is. If there was one trait that the older woman did not flex very often, it was her ability to be modest.

Even as I read I could feel Mrs. Robinson edging in her seat to say something and so just as her vocals tried to take a role in room, I cleared my throat. Suddenly I felt as if we were all sent to Jane Austen's world and I was being courted while a onlooker watched over us. As soon as I got the wicked thought though, I got rid of it the best that I could. It didn't help, however, that the book in my lap was Pride and Prejudice.

'_But that's beside the point!_' I scolded, '_There is no courting going on here. None._'

"Thanks again for the blanket, Doctor Cullen. Although, I'm not sure how I felt about you sending your teenage daughter in the middle of the night to deliver it to me."

'_There isn't._'

"I couldn't help but think you would have been cold and I wanted to make up for my absence."

Out the door he went, and I couldn't help but notice that my Doctor was a bit more stiff than usual. Coughing into a fisted hand, I brought my knees up to my chest.

'_There isn't any courting going on. And my Doctor has no interest in me, hence the reason that he left so abruptly._'

"You like him quite a bit, deary."

'_And I don't harbor any favorable feelings toward him either._'

"It's a shame that he left so quickly…"

'_That's why I didn't- why I don't mind that he was a bit more brash._'

"I would much like to converse with him in depth some time."

'_I definitely do not care._'

"He has quite the _sparkling_ personality, doesn't he? A real _lust _for life. I'm sure he could really _sap_ the life out of anything that got in his way."

Finally I snapped my attention to my companion and gave her a bizarre look, "What in the world are you talking about Mrs. Robinson? You're ranting again."

Looking aspirated, Mrs. Robinson laughed wholly and shook her head, "Nevertheless deary, you'll get it sooner or later. Preferably sooner, I'd like to see everything come together before I, as you young thangs say it today, kick it."

Horrified, my mouth dropped open, "Gloria Robinson! Why would you say things like that?" I was only answered with thick cackling because Masha walking in and began collecting my friend. Mrs. Robinson tossed a smug 'Good bye, my dear!' over her shoulder and was gone.

What a loon.

…..

Hey guys. This is a really short chapter- an extremely short chapter in fact- but bare with me. I have big plans for the next chapter. I'd like to say that there will be large changes in this story in the next three or four chapters. You guys deserve a lot better than I've been providing. Especially because you all have been so excepting of my completely odd alternate-universe plot and my moody and sickly character. Expect better from me, expect a lot better. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU WANT TO SEE. Whether they are changes or advances or anything of that sort. I'm not just writing this for myself, this is for YOUR entertainment too.

So for all of you that have stuck with me, thank you. To those of you who have in any way made me a favorite of theirs or put me on their alert, thanks tons. **OpiumCakes** you have been a faithful reviewer. (: Thank you. I'm especially sorry that I made you wait. Bad writer! Bad. **corbsxx**, I really appreciate your kind words and I'm glad that you like Harper. She has a mind of her own, that's for sure. **compa16**, you're extremely sweet. Thanks for reviewing this story and my other Twilight FanFiction, A Vow of Silence. I'll be working on both now as much as I can.

Bye guys! My sincerest apologies, _ScribblerInNotes_


	7. AUTHOR NOTE: June 2013

Greetings, lovelies.

I am sorry for the wait on the next chapter for this story. In September of 2011 my dad passed suddenly of a heart attack in the middle of the night. Though he was not mine biologically and though I only knew him for a short while, he was in fact mine. My Papa F. I miss him dearly and since that night, myself and my family have not been the same.

I've been mourning and now that I finally have my life back in some sort of order… I am returning. This story and an original fiction that I am working on are my writing priorities for this summer. I am starting college in a few weeks. In fact, my college orientation is tomorrow. (Wish me luck.) I'm in a new place in my life and I do hope that my writing has improved- I owe you all that much.

And I am so incredibly sorry for my absence. I'd like to thank Remmy94 who brought this fiction back to my attention. It was a struggle to locate the login information, let me just tell you that much. This all seems like it happened a lifetime ago.

I'm back, I'm back, I'm back, I'm back, I'm back, I'm back, I'm back. I will have a NEW CHAPTER up by this time next week. So, be expecting an update by the 30th of June.

All of my love,

ScribblerInNotes

PS I changed my screen name in fear of people I know finding my pen name through my email. Sorry about that, too.

PSS For anyone who is interested, I am writing a science fiction novel this summer/year and I am hoping to have it published within the next three years.


	8. Chapter 6: Lament

**AUTHORS NOTE!**

**ATTENTION ALL READERS. **I have been absolutely awful to the lot of you and I must apologize… my school year took over more of my energy then I should have let it and I neglected all of you and this story. And then, as some of you might have read in the previous authors note, I lost my father. It's been a long lifetime since I last wrote. But I adore this story line and I want to really put a jump kick to the plot. I have decided to PACK this chapter with new happenstances. (: Tell me how I do, I love to hear from all of you guys. I began this chapter nearly a year ago on July 12th 2012. It's been that long and I apologize. Now, to the more pressing situation at hand… my procrastination problem. I don't know how many of you would feel comfortable doing this but feel more than free to send me a message along the lines of, "Oh hey there Miss ScribblerInNotes… You have work to do, so get your sorry ass to work!" Anything to that affect. This doesn't mean that you can harass me, but I think that you are going to know how and when to limit yourselves. Well! On to the chapter. Enjoy!

…..

Before I knew it weeks had gone by. I didn't even realize how quickly things moved because I was in my room a majority of the time. Mrs. Robinson came in my room and went out of my room. The group of kids that I read to did the same. Of course my doctor was the most consistent visitor that I had. Alice hadn't come around again, but Edward did visit once. However, he wasn't much of a talker. He had dropped by on the 18th of December wearing a dark hued v-neck and a pair of dark wash jeans, which was spookily similar to what he had been wearing the first time that I met him. I was crafting a card for Mrs. Robinson the best I could with construction paper. The scissors entwined around my fingers and a pile of shapes next to me, I was planning on creating a stained glass masterpiece. Except with paper. I had wanted to make her the real deal, but my doctor had easily debunked the idea. That meant no glass blowing for me, which was something that I was terribly bitter about. It would have included me leaving the hospital for hours and being around extreme heat. Apparently those were two conditions that he was not accepting.

"That looks like a time consuming project."

I jumped in my skin and I brought my scissors down sharply, "Ouch…" A single drop of blood formed and started to dribble from a short and shallow cut on the tip of my thumb. I tucked it into my mouth quickly and suckled at it momentarily. I looked up to see Edward, which in itself was a surprise. Even more surprising, he was not uniformly put together. No, he was stiffened and clenching onto the door frame with his head downcast. His fist was meshed up to his lips.

"Edward?" I asked. When I went without a response I went on, "Are you alright?"

Whatever spell had come upon him at that time had passed quickly as he grudgingly straightened himself and clenched a tight smile, "I'm quite fine. I just wanted to let you know that a piano will be set up in the sun room on Christmas day."

Christmas day. The 25th of December. Mrs. Robinson's ninetieth birthday. Blinking at him, I soon was filled with excitement, "That's great! Thanks so…" He abruptly turned and left, "Much. I really appreciate it, Mr. Cullen! Thanks for the favor… oh and leaving so quickly too! That was also sweet of you."

'_Why would he do that, the least he could have done was stick around to tell me what kind of piano it would be. Pft, forget that, a simple good-bye would have sufficed!_'

That was seven days prior to the 25th. Seven days after Edward's visit it would be the all worthy Mrs. Robinson's birthday. I woke up that morning with a spring in my jaw, I could not stop chatting. I showered far earlier than I typically would have and I made it a point to wear the nicest clothing that I had.

Running my hands over the dress that I wore that day, my thoughts traveled back to when I had first bought it. There was no surrounding story, no real significance. No, but there was a longing for that feeling of something new. I was never one to be overly concerned with material items, but I could not, for the life of me, remember the last time that I had something new in my possession. Other than the woolen blanket that Carlisle had given me… Not to say that the blanket hadn't been heart warming, but there was still an urge in me to pick something out for myself. To have ownership.

Shrugging it off the best I could, I didn't wait for my nurse or doctor to show up. Instead I checked on my own IV sight, which had healed over quite nicely, and then rummaged through my old possessions and took a multivitamin. They didn't really do much of anything, seeing as I took several medications anyway, but I was determined to not stop for a moment that day; any extra nutrient was welcome. It couldn't possibly hurt me.

It had been a little while since my last sick spell, but my feet had been a bit swollen and sore. When my breakfast was dropped off by Masha- which was moderately odd, she hadn't been around in a bit- I thanked her easily and took my meds right there and then. This satisfied her and she was on her way, reassuring me that she would see me later at the little get together that we had planned for Mrs. Robinson. When the kids came by for their Saturday reading I greeted them at the door and flashed the book that I had chosen at them. The book was one from my own childhood that my mother would read to me on Christmas. The number of kids there was smaller than usual as it typically was on the day of a holiday. Plenty of the normal kids would spend their days in their rooms with their families. There were some loyal listeners that brought their families to the reading. Moms and dads and siblings and grandparents. The reading was quick, though I managed to cut my thumb in a very similar place to where the scissors had nicked me days before. I huffed annoyed at it and gave it the same suckling treatment before continuing on with the story. All of the kids were satisfied and were enjoying the rest of their Christmas elsewhere by twelve thirty.

My doctor made an appearance closer to one in the afternoon, only an hour before the festivities would begin. I grinned at him, "Good afternoon Doc, how nice of you to stop by-" My doctor didn't patter around my room but instead walked right up to me and took my hand from my side. As I sat on the edge of the hospital bed he inspected it briefly, "What are you doing? Oh, the cut. I just managed to get that one a little while ago." I shrugged it off but he didn't seem to do the same. He was a bit stiff and he had been for a while.

"I know," he murmured lowly. From his pocket he took out some disinfectant and he set to work cleaning the small cut. He reached out to me with a band aid but I fended him off jokingly.

"It's only a paper cut, really, I don't need that," I took my hand from his and looked at the slender slit in my skin, "How did you know, anyway?" At first he didn't respond to me but then he muttered something about a nurse. I didn't really catch what he said.

"You know, the nurse mentioned something about me going back on an IV soon?" It was a question that had been meant to be a statement but as I saw the unchanging look on Carlisle's face I faltered. We shared a familiar silence. He stood unmoving. I got up and straightened my blue wool blanket at the bottom of my bed before straightening out my the sleeves on my crimson dress and tightening the band in my dull hair that was thrown into a bun. Once that was in order and I couldn't find anything else to do with myself, my form settled back into the bed. With my legs flat in front of me I reached out to grab my feet and began to play with my knit tights. The pressure made the entirely of my body creek.

Finally, my doctor moved. Carlisle began to idly flip through his forever present clipboard. I couldn't look at him, it was only noticed from the corner of my eye. I worked on rubbing my calves and feet, both of which were swollen. Quietly I reminded myself that I should be numbering my days. The symptoms of heart failure were becoming more constant. My mood had lightened but while my exterior improved the rest of my physical being worsened. I rolled my sore ankle between my hands. My breath was always short. My legs would swell more often and for longer amounts of time. I was lucky to have made it as far as I had, considering my condition. I wondered how long it would be before I was out of my doctors hair. Out of my doctors care. The pads of my thumbs dug into the ball of my foot.

"Yes, we need to get you back on your fluids," he was slow and cautious, as if speaking to a child. I couldn't look at him. Stifling a dry sob, I held a small grin on my face and listened to his calm voice speak, "We thought that we wouldn't need to hook you back up for a while but the situation has proven otherwise." I went back to massaging my calves. I couldn't look at him.

The translation was, 'We thought you might be making some longer term progress but now you are plummeting more quickly and severely than before.' The bitter words could be found on my tongue though I didn't use them.

"I wonder if there will be dancing today at Mrs. Robinson's party. I love to dance," I muttered trying to change the subject.

Carlisle's voice broke through my thoughts, "If you started dancing, I'm sure others would follow."

"Would you follow?" I asked.

"Harper?"

Kneading and rolling my feet, I kept my head down. His hand came up and under my chin. His fingers lingered right there, caressing the concave contour under my chin before he took a painstakingly slow approach to making me look up at him. My breath tousled his hair at his forehead. I felt fortunate not only because I had brushed my teeth that day but because I could smell and feel him and he was solid. He was permanent in what I had left in life.

"Would I follow you? Yes, I would follow you." I heard him and I wanted to believe that they meant something more than they did. He would join me in dancing. That is what he meant. But what I wanted him to tell me was that he meant more than just following me in a promenade. I stripped my chin from his hand and felt dread pool in my chest. He was only permanent in my life as a doctor. It was his profession.

I tried to keep outwardly optimistic, "Sunny side up, I've been off the IV for almost a month now. That's a good thing," Shaking nails were traced over my shins, leaving dry white lines between the knit patterns in my tights, "I had hoped to stay off the IV until after New Years Eve, but it shouldn't make too much of a difference." I couldn't look at him. I gathered my calves into my hands and roughly kneaded them, muttering more to myself than to him, "There is only so much energy that you can put into a lost cause." I couldn't look at him. Couldn't.

I would have kept rambling if my doctor hadn't snapped out of his daze and wretched my hands away from my legs. I peeked up at him through my hair.

He was so close. He smelled fresh. His eyes were a shade darker than they normally where on a day to day basis. He leaned down and I could have sworn that my heart was going to smash right through my rib cage. My eyes flickered down to his mouth and for a moment I thought my heart was finally going to give in on me. Clunk. Done. Right then, right there. He stopped a few inches from my face and I forced myself to look at his nose. The sharp ridge of his nose to be exact. However it didn't stay in my sight for long because his forehead then rested on my own. The very tip of his nose brushed mine and all I could see was his eyes. Two feelings rushed over my nearly feverish body. I closed my eyes.

The first was relief. I wasn't sure what I would have done if he had… but he didn't. So it didn't matter. He didn't kiss me.

The second was disappointment. I wanted him, if only for a few moments, to kiss me. At that moment I wanted nothing more. He didn't kiss me. He wouldn't kiss me. I had to keep reminding myself of that.

Now that I look back at that moment when our foreheads touched, I realize that it was then that I admitted to myself what everyone had been hinting at all along. Mrs. Robinson and Alice seemed to be on their A-Game. I had feelings for my doctor. I waited, still as I could keep. Cracking open my eyes, I looked at him through my lashes.

Carlisle moved away almost hesitantly while I stayed still. His hand smoothed over my chin and then swept away stray hair from my forehead. Carlisle looked at me with a look that I could only translate into pity. Little did I know.

"We can manage to keep you off of an IV until January 2nd," I looked at my hands, which he was still holding, and flipped them over so my palm was facing upward in his icy hold. Our palms were touching and while he leaned over me like that I felt safer than I had in a while. It was calm. There was peace. The image of my brothers vows on his wedding day flashed through my head and then it was gone. The corners of my lips curled kindly. He knew how to calm me down almost as well as he knew how to rile me up. I didn't thank him but it wasn't necessary. He knew my gratitude.

He rose and held a hand out to me. Grateful, I took the offering and let him help me out of bed. He smiled at me, "Let's get you down to the sun room now. Just because you organized the whole party doesn't mean it will wait for you. Gloria surely won't wait for you either." He didn't wait for a reply but instead swept out of the room, leaving me to freshen up. I watched him leave, his typically sleek hair was shuffled out of place.

I moved to the bathroom and peered at myself in the mirror with a frown. Surveying my appearance was not my favorite thing to do, but it happened from time to time. My skin was sickly pale and my red hair lacked any sort of luster. My cheeks were sullen and my eyes were gaunt. I seemed so much older than I actually was.

After washing up I left a note saying that I had headed down to the sun room and I was on my way with a pair of old converse in hand. The hallways clearly displayed the Christmas holiday there in the Oregon hospital. There were plenty of hand crafted ornaments along the walls, small plastic pine trees could be found on the tables that lined one of the waiting lobbies that I had to walk through to get to the sun room.

Notes soared through the air, bouncing off of the ceilings and hallway walls and the back of my brain. Music like I had never heard before, but I thought I could pinpoint to a distinct artist. And then I realized that it was live. Live piano music, I heard it before I saw it. Where the hallway I was walking intersected with another, a door way led to a brightly lit room that was buzzing quietly with chatter and vibrating with the notes. My toes touched the room but I lingered in the door way, looking directly at the source of the sound.

Mrs. Robinson was perched on a wheelchair to accommodate for her handicap but her hands were stroking the keys of a piano that read "PETROF" on the side. It was sheen and black and it suited Mrs. Robinson well enough. It brought the stories that she had told me to mind. For years she played piano at a hotel in their lobby as live entertainment for the high-class clientele. When she was in her early twenties she was picked up by a restaurant owner who wanted her talents at night when his food hub was turned into a cocktail and jazz parlor. She had fallen madly in love with that man and had three children before she and her husband left them with a relative and they both went off to serve in World War II, he as a soldier and her as a nurse. She had come back without her husband and without her legs, only to have to give up the restaurant and live off of the money that had been left in her husbands wake. She took her kids and lived in a home in a remote town where she sat in her sun room and played piano for hours, always improving but never quite reaching the talent she had before she lost the love of her life and her legs.

To see her playing for the first time in years made me go all soft and I smiled smally, not moving from my post. It took me a few moments to realize that next to her was Edward perched on the bench that must have actually gone with the piano. He was looking at Mrs. Robinson and talking to her, sparing her small grin as she barked something and tossed her head back in laughter.

"Hapa!" I looked away from Mrs. Robinson to see the short, coarse hair of Jeremy. He was running toward me, his hands outstretched. He was not bandaged up like the last time I had seen him and he looked as though he was recovering splendidly from his last surgery. A light mocha line of scar tissue peaked out from under the collar of his shirt, and that was all that seemed to be left, "Hapa, Hapa!"

He wrapped his arms around me soundly, knocking the air from me, "Happy Winter Solstice, Jeremy." I laughed and placed one arm around his back and placed my opposite hand on the back of his neck.

"I don't know what that means, but it's Christmas," He insisted, "Not what you said."

Jeremy pulled back and his mother came up from behind him, "Jeremy Herman Abdullai, if Miss Connor celebrates the Solstice, then you better respect that," She held her hands on her hips with a hardness in her eyes but a smile on her lips, "It's just like how your Pops celebrates Decoration day in March while your Mamma celebrates the Day of the Dead."

Jeremy spun on his toes and crossed his arms, "Well that's because you're from Mexico and Pops is from Liberia. Hapa is from America."

Mrs. Abdullai pulled her son to her side and shook her head, "I'm sorry about Jeremy, Miss Connor. He means no offense."

I put my hands up in front of me, palms facing outward, "There's nothing to be sorry for, things like this get confusing. The world's a big place," I smiled at Jeremy, "I'm just still celebrating the Winter Solstice. It happened four days ago, but it's part of my religion to celebrate that holiday."

He furrowed his eyebrows and wiggled from his moms arms to tug at my hand. I let him lead me to a booth near the window. It had snowed several inches. He clamored onto the bench and then patted it and invited me to sit down as well. Mrs. Abdullai sat across from us, giving her son a knowing look.

"Why?" he asked, his eyes wide. I glanced at his mother, primarily because I knew that there were plenty of people in the world that don't appreciate it when their children are exposed to other religions. She only looked on warmly, her hands enveloping each other over the swell of her stomach. She looked several months pregnant and happy as could be.

"Well," I began slowly, "Many places all over the Earth celebrate the birth of a savior during or close to the Winter Solstice. The Winter Solstice is when we have the shortest day in the whole year. The sun is closer to the Earth than it is all year. Some historians believe this happens in so many cultures because all people understand that in order for something to exist, it must be born first."

"But why do _you_ celebrate it? I don't get it," Jeremy had one leg curled under him and one leg swinging off of the bench, "The sun is just super close."

I looked for the right words, "I think it's a time to celebrate the birth of all of the worlds saviors, fictional and not. I celebrate being born again. I feel like when I am close to the sun, I am close to the divines."

He asked me what a divine was and Mrs. Abdullai answered for me, "Sweets, Miss. Connor believes in many, many gods and goddesses."

"Oh," he said simply before shrugging, "Happy Winter Solstice, Hapa."

"And a Merry Christmas to you, Jerm," I winked before sliding out of the booth.

"Hey, I am not a germ!" he exclaimed.

"Jeremy, why don't you go play with the other kids? I'm sure Miss. Connor wants to go and see the other people here." Before I could protest, he chirped in agreement and was running off to where a handful of children were playing with the toys set up in a far corner. I watched him wave toward us before he was completely wrapped up in his friends, who were completely enthused by his arrival.

"You know, Miss Connor, I wanted to take Jeremy home for Christmas but he wasn't having any of it. He wanted to be here for the party."

I turned to Mrs. Abdullai, "Please, you can just call me Harper. I'm sorry that this all got in the way of your holiday plans."

"He has a reason to be happy there. I am happy to spend the day here," she pulled a little package out of her enormous handbag and handed it to me, "You should take this now. Open it if you like, but I'm sure the life of the party that you planned wants to see you." I wasn't sure how she knew that I had taken part in the planning and it flustered me. I tried to tell her that I didn't need any gift and that it was too kind, but she would not take the package back. So I slipped my fingers under the paper and opened up the box to see a hair clip that had a fake orange flower and some plastic berries hanging from it. The front of my dress felt damp and I reached up to wipe a tear that has slid down.

"Jeremy told me that you had hair the color of fire. I thought it was fitting." With that she departed from the table with some difficulty, one of her hands always on her stomach. I called a 'thank you' out after her.

I looked closer at the pin and found a small signature under the flower that read, "Talia Abdullai." Placing the handmade hair piece back into the packaging, I looked up around the room. Edward and Mrs. Robinson were still at the piano. At least four generations of Robinson's were flocking around the room. One man, who looked about Gloria's age, stood near the piano singing with her. They both had blue eyes and I realized that it must have been her little brother, Michael. I continued on looking around the room and stopped breathing when I saw my doctor sitting contently with five people that I recognized from his photograph that he had shared with me.

As if he could feel me looking, his head tilted toward me and he greeted me from across the room with one of his smiles. I felt warm all over and I gave a feeble wave before walking toward Mrs. Robinson. I tried not to notice that all of his kids turned to look at me as well, all but one of them with light golden eyes.

Approaching the back of her chair, I leaned over her a bit, the tips of my hair brushing her cheek, "Mrs. Robinson, have you been keeping Edward captive all morning, or what?"

Edward gave me a grateful look which be quickly disposed of once Mrs. Robinson looked from her music, to him, and then to me. Her eyes were brighter than I had seen them in ages and her skin was practically glowing with happiness.

"My dear, I was wondering when you'd show your pretty face. You just missed Masha, she was here this morning and helped me greet every single one of my family members- this is Mike, by the way, Mike this is Harper Connor," Michael gave me a firm nod and I almost pat myself on the back for being correct but instead gave Gloria my attention, "And then she had to go on and go to this boys house for Christmas dinner. Can you imagine Masha dating? Me either, but I told her to go on and woo the boy out of his trousers. She blushed, but I can't imagine why," she stroked a tune as she spoke to me, "In any case, lovely, Happy Winter Solstice. I got you a gift."

I scrunched my nose together, "It's your birthday. I should be giving you a gift, not the other way around."

With a wicked grin, she held out her hand expectantly, "Well then, have it your way. Where is my gift?" I dropped my shoulders and gave her a guilty look. Instead of telling her that I had not had the money to buy her anything, I fished the card I had made out from my dress pocket and placed it into her waiting hand. With a childish glee, she shut the piano and leaned onto the case with her elbows.

Her eyes glazed over as she inspected the stain glass styled picture. Sitting on a plush bench at a grand baby piano, not unlike the one that she was wheeled at, was a young woman with blond hair that was tightly curled to her head and around her face. Her mouth was open in song and musical notes spilled from her lips. Blossoms kissed her feet and birds were flying above her head.

"Dear Gloria," she began to read out loud. I scratched the back of my neck and gave her a sheepish smile. I had hoped that she would spare me the embarrassment, but apparently she had other plans. She went on, "I hope that by the time that you are reading this, you will have already had a chance to reacquaint yourself with your instrument, courtesy of the Cullen family. I've been thinking about your birthday for a while, I couldn't help but decide to make sure that your 90th was one of your favorite birthdays. I know that you've told me that your music gave you strength, and I hope that you are feeling full of it today. It's the least I can possibly do for someone who has stuck by me, and my temper, without faltering once. Who knew that a flippant old coot would be able to provide me, an equally flippant young rebel, with such insightful company. You have been my strength before, and I hope you are feeling some in return right now. All of my Love, Harper Angela."

Michael pat me on the shoulder, and I wasn't expecting it so it nearly knocked me off my feet. He smiled down at me through his wrinkled face and bushy eyebrows, "Now if that isn't the sweetest thing, I don't know what is."

Mrs. Robinson, on the other hand, did not say anything at first. Only the side of her face was showing and though there could have been a tear in her eye, it wasn't definite. In fact, she did not say anything for a while.

"I can't believe that you haven't said anything yet," I teased her, "Imagine that, the great Gloria Robinson speechless."

"Don't sass me, dear. Else you'll be wishing that I had kept my mouth shut," she faced me, her eyes crinkling at the sides from a lifetime of smiling, "Thank you for the card. It's beautiful."

Then she shoved a wrapped box into my face, giving me very little time to grasp it. I fumbled to get a hold of the package and before I knew it she was wheeling off.

"Where are you off too so quickly?" I asked.

Not turning around she called, "I'm getting tired. I want to rough house with the grandkids and their kids for a while."

Michael patted my shoulder again and this time I stumbled backward several steps. I wasn't used to so many people being in one place. In fact, I hadn't been around more than two adults at a time in a very long time. There were children buzzing around and teenagers milling about and parents socializing and grandparents gushing over babies. It was overwhelming. Edward's chilled hand caught my elbow in an effort to steady me, which I immediately thanked him for.

"I swear to you, I am not normally clumsy," I laughed at myself. He stiffened immediately and I eyed him cautiously.

"It's not a problem, don't worry about it." Edward turned and began on his way to where his family was still sitting and chattering. I opened my mouth to say something to him but it got lodged in my throat. I wanted to go with him and meet Carlisle's family but I wasn't sure if Edward even liked me or if he was just being nice to me because I was his father's patient. What if he detested my very existence and didn't want me to hinder him? Or his family. I shifted from one foot to the other and puffed out my cheeks.

"Edward?"

He faced me after I had blurted out his name and waited for me to say something. He was expecting something out of me, so at the least I decided to act like I had at least an ounce of courage in my body.

"I'll admit I'm nervous to meet all of your and Doctor Cullen's family," I started. Cringe. So much for courage, "I was wondering if you could introduce me." There were several fleeting moments where I felt as though he was judging me but before I could get anymore fidgety than I already was, he offered me his arm. I blinked.

And then I lurched forward and looped my arm in his and perched myself on his elbow. He gave me a reassuring smile, or his equivalent to reassurance, and led me on. I began to play name games to keep myself on my toes, '_Alice is easy. Alice looks like Alice from Alice in Wonderland but with inky and short hair. Edward is the first Cullen kid I met and has sophistication that matches Edward Allen Poe. Emmett. Emmett. Emmett is not emasculate. Jasper rhymes with Casper, who is the friendly ghost. Jasper. Rosalie. She looks like the model, the queen on the flowers. Debatably. Rosalie. And then there is Edward's sister. Ren. Ren. Ren. Deer lard, what is her name?_'

I saw Alice look at us first and she was practically bouncing in her seat and clapping her hands together like an overly enthused seal. I took a deep calming breathe, "Before we get too close, I just want to make sure that I know everyone's name. Because nothing works against you more than forgetting a name during a first impression," Edward opened his mouth but I beat him to it, "Alice, Edward, Emmett, Jasper, Rosalie, and I can't for the life of me remember-" By that time we were practically at the table.

"Renesmee," Edward called and the young teen with bronze hair turned as Edward released my arm and introduced my entrance, "This is Harper."

She was small and I strained to remember her age. She was lovely to look at. Her teeth were tiny and pearly like a childs but she was a high schooler. I instantly had affection for her. My heart warmed with her smile and I was so caught up in her atypical disposition that I missed the beginning of what she was saying.

"-About you! You can call me Ness if you'd like. Do you have a nickname?"

The corners of my mouth curled and I rasped a laugh, "When I was younger my older brother called me Harp, but I gander that it's because he is lazy. I don't think shortening your name would really do it justice. But thank you for the offer, Renesmee."

The apples of her cheeks were brushed with pink and she took my hand so I would sit next to her. Carlisle was across from Renesmee and Edward took a seat next to him. I glanced at him and saw that his eyes were trained on me. Me and the way that I was interacting with his family.

Thoughts of what had happened between us earlier in my room flooded my mind for a split second before I wedged them deeply into the back of my mind. That didn't stop the small flush that raised in my cheeks. I quickly looked away form him to look at everyone else at the table. Closest to the window, Rosalie sat with her arms loosely crossed and her head toward the snow outdoors. She didn't regard me with warmth, or with chill. Simply not at all. Emmett was seated next to her and was leaning with his arm tossed over her should. Perfectly straight teeth gleamed in his mouth and he was watching me smugly. Jasper was across the table from Rosalie, his back stiff as a board and both of his hands clasped on his legs. One of them was closed and empty while the other one was wrapped around Alice's hand. Alice was still buzzing in her seat and as soon as I looked at her she let out a little gasp of excitement.

"You look absolutely darling in that red dress. I've been dying to tell you since this morning It's not something that I would normally pick for a red head, but you just look like a little runway model!" She plucked up my hand and examined my nail beds, "You'll have to let me do your nails sometime."

I watched her as she turned my hands to get a better look at them, "…Why do I feel like allowing you to do my nails entails allowing you to do my hair, my makeup, and my wardrobe?"

There was a general bout of chuckles and I noticed that I wasn't nearly as nervous as before.

"You're pretty spot on with that one," the blonde teen muttered which caused a slow stop to the laughter and earned a small huff of protest from Alice, "I'm Rose, by the way. And you're Harper."

Not sure what to say, I was about to tell her that she was correct. But Emmett saved me the humiliation, "And I'm Emmett. Hey, don't be so nervous. We don't bite." There was laughter still in his eyes, "Much."

I raised an eyebrow at him, "If you are ever considering biting you might want to remind yourself that cannibalism is, more often than not, frowned upon by the general public. You ought to keep your teeth in your mouth." Emmett let out a guffaw, which Rose elbowed him for but let a tiny simper take her mouth.

Alice waved toward Jasper, "This is Jasper. Greet Harper, Jasper."

"Hello."

I didn't ask anything more from him, instead I said his word back to him and then tried to address the table, "It's nice to meet you all since I've only heard complaints and brags about you all constantly for the past months…" I gave Carlisle a crisp look.

"We forgot an introduction!" Renesmee exclaimed, leaning across the table and taking Carlisle's hands in hers, "Since we are sure that you haven't met the head of our house, since he certainly isn't your doctor, it's only right that we introduce you to Doctor Carlisle Cullen."

I placed the gift that Mrs. Robinson has given me on the table and held out my hand to Carlisle, "Renesmee's right. It's nice to meet you, Doctor Cullen."

Carlisle took my hand and, completely unexpectedly, brought my hand to his lips and kissed the indent between my forefinger and my middle finger, "Just Carlisle is fine."

In front of his kids. He was kissing my hand in front of his kids. I convinced myself that it was no big deal and that he meant nothing by it. I had never used his name aloud, only ever in my thoughts. Otherwise he had just been Doc or Doctor Cullen. I rolled my eyes, letting my ears warm, "It's nice you meet you, Carlisle. Maybe I'm not the only person that should be on one of the hospital cots, you are cold."

Both of his eyebrows shot up and into his hairline, "This isn't anything out of the ordinary for me."

"Really? Because my day has been extraordinary," I joked. My heart was thudding and I wanted to gleam at the fact that he remembered. I shook off that thought, "Thank you, again, for getting the piano here. It was the cherry on top, so to say, for this party."

"Don't worry about it even for a second," he told me. So I didn't. Instead I sat at the table with Carlisle and his children, nibbling at a plate of snacks that Carlisle had insisted on getting me. All of them had plates in front of them. None of them seemed to eat though, because it was hospital food.

At least, that was the reason as far as I was concerned.

…..

"Maybe I'm not the only person that should be on one of the hospital cots, you are cold."

"This isn't anything out of the ordinary for me."

-Some of the first lines ever said between our two little love birds.

THIS CHAPTER WAS ORIGINALLY MUCH, MUCH LONGER. BUT I DECIDED TO CUT IT INTO TWO. I AM HOPPING TO HAVE THE NEXT CHAPTER OUT BY THIS TIME NEXT WEEK.

**OpiumCakes! **I was back and then a lot of things happened. My father passed in 2011 and I am only just now getting back on my feet. I've been slackin'. I'm glad that you like the pictures that I've picked for Harper, they've been saved to my computer ever since I began jotting down notes for the plot of this FanFiction. I hope I haven't lost you in my absence. Oh, **compa16**, thank you for reading both of my stories, and I'm sorry that I've been gone. Bad author, bad! I'm glad that you enjoyed Miss Alice, she was interesting to write~ Hey there **corbsxx**, thank you for the review. Oh yes, Mrs. Robinson knew alright. ;) Troublesome and mysterious as ever, that woman was. If you reference back to one of my pervious story installments (Chapter 2 to be exact), there was section on the ways that my story is AU. More or less, Bella is dead in my story. Please don't hate me… D: Hello **L. **, thank you for the review and I hope that I can update more this summer! Shhhhh, **BamYurrDead**! No one is supposed to know my little tactic. :P More is to come, it's just been slow. I apologize. **PhysicsMaster17** I hope you enjoyed how this chapter wrapped itself up. Thank you for the review! **Hikaru69**, Carlisle is one of my very favorite characters as well~ I hope you enjoyed this chapter. **mayacullen86**, I'm grateful for your review, it came to me out of the blue last month and reminded me that I have duties as an author, FanFiction or not. Also, thank you for reviewing after I posted the Authors Note last Sunday. **angel19872006**, here is your real update! I hope that I have lived up to your expectations. **Ida**, I hope that I still have done a good job in keeping Carlisle in character, please let me know if you believe otherwise. I believe that there is always room for improvement. So if something is off, let me know so I can see what I can do to revise it. **aandm20**, I hope that this chapter wasn't too fast for you. I know that you really liked the pace before I posted this chapter and I hope that this is just as good. I have a few sequels planned for this storyline, which I am excited for. I just hope that doesn't mess with the way that I control the story pace. Let me know what you think! **SerWolfsBaneRuneRunner** I hope that you return and that you still enjoy this story. **Remmy94**, you are a large contributor to my return and I am very grateful. I hope to hear more from you soon so we can talk about character development and whatnot. I'm eager to hear what your thoughts are. Thankyouthankyouthankyou.

Now then! Let me know how I'm doing. It's been so long since I've added an installment but I can only hope that my style and quality has improved, if even just a bit. I'm off now, but thank you all for reading.

Regards, ScribblerInNotes (:

**UNEDITED.**


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